Arthur admitted the correctness of Mr. Stewart’s supposition.
“That is right; every man ought to marry,” said the bachelor. “Have you any children?”
“Two—a boy and girl,” said the Squire; “one of them is in very bad health. I do not know what her mother will think about bringing her to town.”
“You have not mentioned your intentions, then, to Mrs. Dudley?” said Mr. Stewart, apparently surprised.
“I thought it would be time enough to tell her when the matter was settled,” answered Arthur.
“Evidently, then, you will not consider it necessary to take your wife into your confidence concerning all the affairs of our Company?” suggested the director.
“I do not think women ever understand anything of business matters,” Arthur replied; then, noticing Mr. Stewart smile, he added, “and I am positive my wife would not wish me to tell her any of the affairs of my principals.”
“I have heard of Mrs. Dudley as a lady of an excellent discretion,” said Mr. Stewart.
“You do not expect me to praise my own wife,” answered Arthur, deprecating this praise; and the evasion was really rather a clever one for him. If he had praised her at all, however, it would simply have been as his wife, and because she belonged to him, not in her mere capacity as a woman.
Mr. Stewart felt curious about this Mrs. Dudley, whose husband so decidedly refused to speak of her. Miss Baldwin had been by no means so reticent. She had described Heather to her cousin, and told him all about the brothers and sisters who used to run wild before the young wife’s arrival at Berrie Down. Lally also was not left out of the narrative. “The sweetest little creature in the world,” the Honourable Augusta declared; “just the child you would love, Mr. Stewart.”