There was a measure of comfort in that view of the matter. For though Mr Dawson was ambitious for his daughter, Captain Harefield as a man with expectations was by no means so interesting to him personally as he had been last year when he had none. He knew by Jean’s face at the first word spoken, that her aunt was right.
“I gave him his answer last year,” said she.
“But it’s no’ an unheard of thing that a woman should change her mind,” said her father dryly.
“I have had no reason to change my mind, but many reasons against it. Fancy my leaving you and George and the happy life we are just beginning, to go away with a stranger to folk that would look down on me, and think he had thrown himself away?”
“I could make it worth their while to think otherwise.” But Jean shook her head. “Last year you might, when he had nothing.”
“As for his friends—ye need ha’e little to do with them. I dare say none o’ them can ha’e a higher sense o’ their ain importance than his sister, Mrs Eastwood, and I think ye could hold your own with her.”
“If it were worth my while. But, papa—he is nothing in the world to me.”
“He is not a clever man, I ken that. But I like him. He is sweet tempered, and he is a gentleman, and he cares for you. And I think, with you to stand by him, he might be a good man and a useful.”
“But, papa—the weariness of it, even if I cared for him.”
“But that might come in time.”