'If the young fellow has tact and imagination, and a practised pen, he may win you a fortune yet, my dear; but if, as I suspect, he is one of the large army of obstinate, blind, proud geniuses, then he isn't likely to be able to offer you a home at all; in which case, I can only trust you will grow tired of believing in him.'
Catherine felt that her pleasure in meeting this uncle again was all gone—dissipated by a few unsympathetic words! Yet, being genuinely fond of him, and knowing that his worldly wisdom was far more on his lips than in his heart, she tried to make allowances for him. Still, her feelings had been really hurt.
'You would not mistrust him if you knew him, uncle!' she cried eagerly. 'You wouldn't like me to have given him a half-hearted kind of love, would you? If I didn't believe in him, trust him wholly, I should not have promised to be his wife.'
'Girls are too tender-hearted,' said the squire. 'And where their affections are concerned they are utterly incapable of judgment. I will try to believe in your impecunious betrothed, Catherine, and soon you must make him come down to Beverbridge to see me, or rather that I may see him.... In the meantime we will not discuss him. You will stay and spend the day with me, of course?'
'No, I cannot, uncle. I am sorry, but my time is not my own, you know. I have to be back for lunch at one o'clock.'
'Then you certainly need not spring up now! Sit down again, and I will ring for my housekeeper, Mrs. Marlin,—a worthy soul,—to relieve you of your hat and jacket.'
'But it is a four-mile walk home, and—I must go to see Uncle Jack.'
Again the frown came on Mr. Ross Carmichael's brow, and his voice regained a cynical tone as he replied:
'You are not likely to find my brother indoors in the morning; I believe he employs his time in the office of the 3rd Battalion of the Royal Beverbridge Volunteers. He will not have received your letter yet. If you can bear to postpone your visit to him until evening, you had better do so, unless indeed you want to spend some hours alone with Agatha.'
'Poor Agatha! How is she?'