"Declines, Oliver!"
"Declines the negotiation. And he is not much better than a sneak for giving me all this trouble, and then crying off at the eleventh hour," added Dr. Rane.
"It is bad behaviour," said Bessy, warmly. "What excuse does he make?"
"You can see what he says," said Dr. Rane, pushing the letter towards her. Bessy opened it, and read it aloud for the benefit of Richard.
Mr. Lynch took up all one side with apologies. The substance of the letter was, that a practice had unexpectedly been offered to him at the seaside, which he had accepted, as the air and locality would suit his state of health so much better than Dallory. If he could be of service in negotiating with any one else, he added, Dr. Rane was to make use of him.
It was as courteous and explanatory a letter as could be written. But still it was a refusal: and the negotiation was at an end. Bessy Rane drew a deep breath: whether of relief or disappointment it might have puzzled herself to decide. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
"Then, after all, Oliver, we shall not be leaving!"
"Not at present, it seems," was Dr. Rane's answer. And he put the two letters into his pocket.
"Perhaps you will be thinking again, Oliver, of America, now?" said his wife.
"Oh no, I shall not."