"It isn't that Sarah minds this old house," said Peter; "she was saying what a pretty room she could make of the drawing-room only the other day."
Lady Mary felt an odd pang at her heart. She thought of the trouble John had taken to choose the best of the water-colours for the rose-tinted room—the room he had declared so bright and so charming—of the pretty curtains and chintzes; and the valuable old china she had collected from every part of the house for the cabinets.
"You see, she's got that sort of thing at her fingers' ends, Lady Tintern being such a connoisseur," said the unconscious Peter. "But she's so afraid of hurting your feelings—"
"Why should she be?" said Lady Mary, coldly, in spite of herself. "If she does not like the drawing-room, she can easily alter it."
"That's what I say," said Peter, with a touch of his father's pomposity. "Surely a bride has a right to look forward to arranging her home as she chooses. And Sarah is mad about old French furniture—Louis Seize, I think it is—but I know nothing about such things. I think a man should leave the choice of furniture, and all that, to his wife—especially when her taste happens to be as good as Sarah's."
"I—I think so too, Peter," said Lady Mary.
Her thoughts wandered momentarily into the past; but his eager tones recalled her attention.
"Then you won't mind, so far?" said Peter, anxiously.
"I—why should I mind?" said Lady Mary, starting. "I believe—I have read—that old French furniture is all the rage now." Then she bethought herself, and uttered a faint laugh. "But I'm afraid your aunts might make it a little uncomfortable for her, if she—tried to alter anything. I—go my own way now, and don't mind—but a young bride—does not always like to be found fault with. She might find that relations-in-law are sometimes—a little trying." Lady Mary felt, as she spoke these words, that she was somehow opening a way for herself as well as for Peter. She wondered, with a beating heart, whether the moment had come in which she ought to tell him—
"That's just it," said Peter's voice, breaking in on her thoughts. "That's just what Sarah means, and what I was trying to lead up to; only I'm no diplomatist. But that's one of the greatest objections she has to marrying me, quite apart from disappointing her aunt. I can't blame Lady Tintern," said Peter, with a new and strange humility, "for not thinking me good enough for Sarah; and that's not a difficulty I can ever hope to remove. Sarah is the one to decide that point. But about relations-in-law—it's what I've been trying to tell you all this time." He cleared his throat, which had grown dry and husky. "She says that when she marries she—she intends to have her house to herself."