“Oh, don’t say that,” her husband interrupted, “don’t say that. It might have been happier than any time that went before—I know it was for me—but at best it is only a foreshadowing, it’s only like water to wine, like moonlight to sunlight. There, there, children,” he said, flinging out his hands with a deprecating gesture, “there, there, your old dad doesn’t often get so sentimental as that. The end of July let it be, and after that we shall all go away and breathe freely.”
As a matter of fact, after that Ye Dene became like a seething whirlpool. Such a coming and going, such a dumping of parcels and patterns and presents, such sending out of invitations and receiving of congratulations there was, that more than once even Regina herself admitted that two months was quite long enough for a young couple to be engaged in these modern days.
The Marksby family were frankly and undeniably delighted and overjoyed at the new state of affairs. They received Maudie with wide-open arms, lavished their love and admiration and gifts upon her. Papa Marksby came across to Ye Dene one evening, and was solemnly closeted with Alfred Whittaker for the space of a whole hour, during which time they smoked extremely long cigars, drank whisky-and-soda out of extremely long tumblers, and went solemnly, although in very friendly fashion, into extremely long figures.
And then Alfred Whittaker introduced his future son-in-law’s father into the circle in the drawing-room, and Papa Marksby informed Regina in a voice of much satisfaction and some oiliness, that he and his good friend and neighbor had settled all the little details of future ways and means for the young couple.
“Fifty thousand pounds, my dear Queenie,” said Alfred Whittaker, when he found himself once more alone with his wife.
“Fifty thousand pounds, Alfie? What do you mean?”
“Fifty thousand pounds, as our neighbor across the road puts it, ‘to be tied to Maudie’s tail!’”
“You mean to say he’s going to settle fifty thousand pounds upon her?”
“I do. Papa Marksby isn’t the man to do things by halves. He puts it very clearly and in a very business-like manner, that he has set aside the sum of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds to be divided equally, on their marriage, between his two daughters and his prospective daughter-in-law. He says he can well afford it, that it won’t affect the business the least little bit in the world, and, whatever happens, the three girls will always be safe, they and their children after them. It’s a wonderful thing,” he went on, “that two girls like Rachel and Emmeline Marksby, with fifty thousand pounds apiece to their fortune—to their immediate fortune, one may say—should remain unmarried, and our little Maudie, who hasn’t and never will have, more than a third of that sum, should snap up a big prize as she has done.”
“I knew they were well off,” said Regina, “I knew it in many ways as soon as they came here, but I am not surprised that Maudie has made this wealthy marriage. She is very beautiful—very beautiful. What surprises me is that the Marksbys should turn out to have so much money. He gave over a hundred pounds for her engagement ring, and next week he’s going to buy her a diamond necklace. Think of my daughter with a diamond necklace.”