In saying to Anna Chester that his family would be only too glad to see him married, Isaac Thornycroft (and a doubt that it might prove so lay dimly in his mind when he said it) found that he had reckoned without his host. At the first intimation of his possible intention, Mr. Thornycroft and Richard rose up in arms against it. What they said was breathed in his ear alone, earnestly, forcibly; and Isaac, who saw how fruitless would be all pleading on his part, burst out laughing, and let them think the whole a joke. A hasty word spoken by Richard in his temper as he came striding out of the inner passage, caught the ear of Mary Anne.
"Isaac, what did he mean? Surely you are not going to be married?"
"They thought I was," answered Isaac, laughing. "I married! Would anybody have me, do you suppose, Mary Anne?"
"I think Miss Tindal would. There would be heaps of money and a good connexion, you know, Isaac."
Miss Tindal was a strong-minded lady in spectacles, who owned to thirty years and thirty thousand pounds. She quoted Latin, rode straight across country after the hounds, and was moreover a baronet's niece. A broad smile played over Isaac's lips.
"Miss Tindal's big enough to shake me. I think she would, too, on provocation. She can take her fences better than I can. That's not the kind of woman I'd marry. I should like a meek one."
"A meek one!" echoed Mary Anne, wondering whether he was speaking in derision. "What do you call a meek one?"
"A modest, gentle girl who would not shake me. Such a one as--let me see, where is there one?--as Anna Chester, say, for example."
All the scorn the words deserved seemed concentrated in Miss Thornycroft's haughty face.
"As good marry a beggar as her. Why, Isaac, she is only a working teacher--a half-boarder at school! She is not one of us."