“And the upshot of it was just this—that he could not afford to marry without money—a lot of money and rank.”
“Money and rank! Pretty well for a young coxcomb like Mr. Vane Trevor, upon my word.”
This was perhaps a little inconsistent, for Aunt Dinah had of late been in the habit of speaking very highly of the young gentleman.
“Yes, I assure you, and he said it all in a very pointed way. It was, you see, a kind of explanation of his position, and although there was nothing—no actual connecting of it at all with Violet’s name, you know he couldn’t do that; yet there was no mistaking what he meant.”
Aunt Dinah looked with compressed lips on a verse of the Bible which lay open before her.
“Well, and what did he mean?” she resumed defiantly. “That he can’t marry Violet! And pray who ever asked him? I, for one, never encouraged him, and I can answer for Violet. And you always thought it would be a very disadvantageous thing for her, so young, and so extremely beautiful, as she unquestionably is; and I really don’t know anyone here who has the smallest reason to look foolish on the occasion.”
“Well, I thought I’d tell you,” said William, “tell you what he said, I mean.”
“Of course—quite right!” exclaimed she.
“And there could be no mistake as to his intention. I know there isn’t, and really, as it is so, I thought it rather honourable his being so explicit. Don’t you?” said William.
“That’s as it may be,” said Aunt Dinah, oracularly shutting the Bible, and “Elihu Bung,” and putting that volume on the top of the other. “Young people nowadays are fuller a great deal of duplicity and worldliness than old people used to be in my time. That’s my opinion, and home goes his croquet in the morning. I’ve no notion of his coming about here, with his simpering airs and graces, getting my child, I may call her, talked about and sneered at.”