"Lucinda, that is really a most superior young man: high-principled, true-hearted. A pity but he had rank and money."
"Who is a superior young man?" asked Mrs. Cleeve, not having the clue.
"Lieutenant Andinnian."
[CHAPTER III.]
Done at Sunset
The warm June sun rode gaily in the bright-blue skies, and the sweet June Roses were in bloom. Mrs. Andinnian, entirely unconscious of the blight that had fallen on her younger son, was placidly making the home happiness (as she believed) of the elder. Had she known of Karl's sorrow, she would have given to it but a passing thought.
There was peace in the home again. The vexation regarding their young lady-neighbour had long ago subsided in Mrs. Andinnian's mind. She had spoken seriously and sharply to Adam upon the point--which was an entirely new element in his experience; telling him how absurd and unsuitable it was, that he, one of England's future baronets, and three-and-thirty years of age already, should waste his hours in frivolous talk with a girl beneath him. Adam heard her in silence, smiling a little, and quite docile. He rejoined in a joking tone.
"All this means, I suppose, mother, that you would not tolerate Miss Turner as my wife?"
"Never, Adam, never. You would have to choose between myself and her. And I have been a loving mother to you."
"All right. Don't worry yourself. There's no cause for it."