My aunt gave me to understand that the vicar had visited the strangers when they lodged at the White Hart, and invited them to the vicarage. She herself had taken a violent fondness for the daughter, and for the father a superb contempt.
"The man's daft, or he would not bring a girl to live in a hole like Sandtoft, where there is no other woman except her maid and the wives of mechanics and labourers, and the men are all boors and savages. The only excuse for such barbarity is that the man has lost his wits. But there's a Providence above, and the poor, dear child will have her recompense. There's a coronet at her feet, or soon will be."
"God in heaven! You cannot mean that you favour that beast, Sheffield!"
"No profane language here, Frank. Lord Sheffield is a changed man." Nothing could exceed my aunt's complacency as she gave me this assurance.
"Has he made proposal of marriage?" I asked.
"Not directly as yet; but he is quite open with me," and the good woman smiled loftily.
"Then he comes here?"
"He has been several times to hear your uncle discourse, who is satisfied that a work of grace has begun in his lordship's soul. But, bless me! I shall be late with dinner." And she began to bustle among her stores.
"When do your guests arrive?" I asked.
"They have been here since the day before yesterday. You will find them in the garden." So saying, she hurried off to the kitchen.