"Motive!" returned Mr. North. "Do you see that white butterfly, Dick, fluttering about?--as good ask me what its motive is, as ask me madam's. I don't suppose she has any motive--except that she is given to opposing us all."
Richard concluded it was so. Something might lie also in Bessy's patient excellence as a housekeeper; madam, ever selfish, did not perhaps like to lose her.
As they reached the iron gates, Mrs. Cumberland passed, walking slowly. She looked very ill. Mr. North arrested her, and began to speak of the projected marriage of Oliver and Bessy. Mrs. Cumberland changed colour and looked almost frightened. Unobservant Mr. North saw nothing. Richard did.
"Has Oliver not told you what's afoot?" said the former. "Young men are often shyer in these matters than women."
"It's a very small income for them to begin upon," she observed presently, when Mr. North had said his say--and Richard thought he detected some private objection to the union. "So very small for Bessy--who has been used to Dallory Hall."
"It won't always remain small," said Mr. North. "His practice will increase when Alexander goes; and he'll have other money, may be, later. Oh, they'll get on, Fanny. Young couples like to be sufficiently poor to make struggling upwards a pleasure. I dare say you married upon less."
"Of course, if you are satisfied--it must be all right," murmured Mrs. Cumberland. "You and Bessy."
She drew her veil over her grey face, said good-morning, and moved away. Not in the direction of Dallory--as she was previously walking--but back to the Ham. Mr. North turned into his grounds again; Richard went after Mrs. Cumberland.
"I beg your pardon," he said--he was not as familiar with her as his father was--"will you allow me a word. You do not like this proposed marriage. Have you anything to urge against it?"
"Only for Bessy's sake. I was thinking of her."