“A heavy handfu’,” said Miss Jean, unconsciously repeating her niece’s words.
There was a silence of several minutes between them, and then Mrs Eastwood continued, carrying on her own train of thought.
“Of course I knew that the foolish boy admired the young lady—fancied himself in love; but that has often happened to him before, and I thought it would pass with the month. But they are very pretty and fresh, and the tall one is clever, and she would—yes, she would make him a good wife—provided—”
Miss Jean’s spirit was stirred within her, but she said nothing; and Mrs Eastwood said all the more, unconsciously betraying her belief that it would be the best thing that could happen to her brother, that he should marry and settle down with a wife clever enough to influence him. And to influence him meant, evidently, to keep him from spending too much money, and from the companionship of those who loved to lead him astray.
She did not say in plain words that his marriage with such a one would be a great relief to her and that it would be the saving of him to be kept out of London and out of harm’s way for the greater part of the year; but Miss Jean saw clearly that she was more eager for his success than she was willing to acknowledge. Miss Jean listened silently and patiently. Her niece knew her own mind, doubtless, and would not be likely to allow herself to be influenced by the wishes of any one, and she had no call to reprove, or even to resent, the “ill manners” of the lady.
So she sat silent and let the softly spoken words “go in at one ear and out of the other,” till she heard the tramp of a horse’s feet, and knew that her brother was come home, and then she rose, and invited Mrs Eastwood into the house, hoping that she would refuse the invitation and take her departure. For at the sound of her brother’s voice, Miss Jean’s heart misgave her.