"That he thinks I have been planning to secure his happiness. Had Mary married away, we—when we quit this scene—must have left him to his lonely self: now, we shall leave him to them. Things are wisely ordered," impressively added Mr. Ashley: "in this, as in all else. Margaret, let us accept them, and be grateful."
Mrs. Ashley went to seek William. "You will be a loving husband to her," she said with agitation. "You will take care of her and cherish her?"
"With the best endeavours of my whole life," he fervently answered, as he took Mrs. Ashley's hands in his.
It was a happy group that evening. Henry lay on his sofa in complacent ease, Mary drawn down beside him, and William leaning over the back of it, while Mr. and Mrs. Ashley sat at a distance, partially out of hearing.
"Have you heard what the master says?" asked Henry. "He thinks you have been getting up your bargain out of complaisance to me. You are aware, I hope, Mr. William, that whoever takes Mary must take me?"
"I am perfectly willing."
"It is well you are! And—do you know where you are to live?"
William shook his head. "You can understand how all these future considerations have weighed me down," he said, glancing at Mary.
"You are to live at the house in Helstonleigh. It's to be converted into yours by some patent process. The master had an eye to this, I know, when he declined to take out any of the furniture, upon our removal here. The house is to be yours, and the run of it is to be mine; and I shall grumble away to my heart's content at you both. What do you answer to that, Mr. William? I don't ask her; she's nobody."
"I can only answer that the more you run into it, the better pleased we shall be. And we can stand any extent of grumbling."