"I don't think Mary cares for him in the least," said Mrs. Herbert; "I'm afraid that young man we met at Oxford is the favoured one; and certainly, so far as intellectual and manly qualities are concerned, Reginald Fraser is not to be compared with young Halford for a moment."
"But, my dear Helen," replied her husband, "Charles told me before he left England that this Halford was a schoolmaster's son, and even after he has taken his degree can only hope to be a curate. Armstrong will never sanction such an intimacy."
"No, I'm sure of that: indeed, Mary has told me quite enough on the subject of her father's opinion of schoolmasters and curates to prove that she would have to relinquish all hope of being better acquainted with the Halfords, whatever her own wishes might be. But my impression is that she has no thought of marriage yet."
"Reginald seems to think she has encouraged his attentions, and is quite elated about it. Certainly, so far as money and position go, Armstrong could not hope for a better offer for his daughter. Why, the man has twelve thousand a year, and is the grand-nephew of a duke."
"And what does he intend to do? has he said anything to Mary?"
"No, I advised him not to do so until he had seen her father, and, poor fellow, he seemed glad enough of the respite. He's good and amiable, but not very wise, and he confessed to me that he dreaded popping the question more than undergoing a six hours' drill."
"Poor Mary," said Mrs. Herbert, "what a prospect for such a bright, intelligent, sensible girl as she is! I'm afraid Armstrong will never be able to resist the temptation of such an offer for his daughter."
"Not he, you may be sure; and Mary appears so completely under her father's control, that she will submit to his wishes without a word of complaint."
"And be miserable for life in spite of the money," said her aunt, with a shrug of the shoulders expressive of pity. How little Mrs. Herbert understood the character of Mary Armstrong will be seen in the sequel. On the morning of the next day Mary rose with the feeling that an incubus had been removed from her shoulders. At last she was set free from the unpleasant necessity of listening to the frivolous conversation of Captain Fraser. "How thankful I am that it is over!" she said to herself, while busily engaged after breakfast in packing her boxes with the assistance of Annette, who was desolée at the approaching departure of Mademoiselle Marie.
Her task was scarcely finished when a message from her aunt summoned her to the drawing-room.