"I wouldn't be too pessimistic, Alan, if I were you," the girl was saying. "Mrs. Lancaster, given her own way and plenty of money, may be quite bearable, if not charming, to live with, and Doris is evidently bent on supplying the money—"
"For her father's sake. Doris will never forgive her mother, and I don't see why she should."
Marjorie smiled. "Let's wait and see. What will the Lancasters' income be from Doris's gift?"
"If Doris spends a hundred thousand on a joint annuity, as she threatens to do, they will have about £8,000 a year."
"Goodness! what a lot to have to spend in twelve months!"
"And, of course, Lancaster, though he will have retired from business, will have quite a decent income of his own when the mines come round again."
"Well, I prophesy that they will both be fairly happy. Mrs. Lancaster ought to be able to make a pretty good display in what she calls Society. Now and then Mr. Lancaster will have a shilling left to spend on a nice book for his library, poor dear; and, with no business worries, he will probably begin to admire his wife once more as well as love her, which he has always done; and when he gets a surfeit of her friends, as I fear he will now and then, he will just take a little holiday and pay you a visit—"
"Us, please!"
"I wonder," said Miss Handyside, becoming extremely grave, "I wonder whether we ought to marry, after all."
"What?"