“Let me speak of it, then,” said Sir Richard, stealing his arm round his sister's waist, and kissing her very tenderly. “The message the doctor will not give respects yourself, dear, and his son Arthur. My foolish pride”——
“Pride, indeed!” broke in the little old man impetuously; “your confounded impertinence, I call it.”
“Very well, doctor,” continued the baronet smiling; “let it be so, if you will. I had the audacity to suppose, Letty, that Mr Arthur Haldane was not good enough for you.”
“Nor is he,” contested the little doctor with irritation. “Nobody's good enough for Letty Lisgard. But he is as good as can be found in England, that I will say, though the young man is my own son. And if he does not make you a pattern husband, I'll cut him off with a shilling.”
“I shall be glad to give you away to such an honest fellow, Letty,” said the baronet warmly; “so let that matter be considered settled.”
It was very pleasant to see the blushing girl hiding her tearful face in the old man's arms. “O mamma, mamma,” murmured she, “how happy I should be if you were but with us!”
“Well, well, that will be soon, I hope, my dear,” said the doctor, patting her silken head. “I will do all I can on my part to persuade her: I am sure I shall make her happy with this news.”
“Yes; but in the meantime,” said Letty, “how terrible it must be for her to be all alone. If you know where she is, can you not at least send Forest to be with her?”
“No, no; but, by the by, I have forgotten to do your mother's bidding with respect to that very person. She expressly desired that until her own return to Mirk, Mary may be sent to Belcomb, where Madame de Castellan is just now in saddest need of her.”
“Ay, she writes to me that she has lost her French maid,” said Sir Richard, picking up the crumpled note: “in that case, Mary had better go off at once.”