‘Not much more than a child,’ said that astute mother; ‘and left so poorly off, after all! You may suppose, Mrs. Renton, if I had not thought it would be a very good marriage in point of money, I should never have sacrificed my child to the son of a man in the City. I would rather have starved. And then it turned out he had not half what he was supposed to have. People that do those sort of things should be punished,’ Mrs. Tracy said, with fire in her eye.
‘Indeed, that is my opinion,’ said Mrs. Renton; ‘but I always thought the Riches were rolling in money.’ And then she made a little internal reflection that, perhaps, on the whole, Frank had not done so very much amiss.
‘So we thought,’ said Mrs. Tracy, confidentially; ‘or rather, so I thought, for my poor child is as innocent as a baby. But poor Harry had speculated, I believe, or done something with his money; and his father is as hard,—oh, as hard—— If I could but see justice done to my Millicent, I care for nothing more.’
‘And, dear me, we had thought they were such liberal kind of people!’ said Mrs. Renton, thinking more and more that Frank, on the whole—— ‘And your daughter is so very prepossessing,’ she added, in a lower tone. ‘Of course they knew all about it,—before——’
‘That is just it,’ said Mrs. Tracy; ‘the marriage took place abroad, and we were both so ignorant of business, and I fear the settlements were not quite en règle; I am so foolish about business; all I trust to is the heart.’
‘Dear, dear, what a sad thing! But I should always have looked over the settlements,’ said Mrs. Renton, who knew as much about it as her lap-dog, shaking her head and looking very wise. Millicent had pretended to talk to Mary while this was going on, but principally had employed herself in gazing round the room, noting all its special features. Furnished all anew, in amber satin, it would look very well, she thought; and, oh, what a comfort to have such a home, after all the wanderings of her life! And then she wondered what the house was like in Berkeley Square. Poor, dear Ben! what a surprise it would be to him to find that she was established at the Willows! She wondered whether he would be very angry about her marriage, or whether he would think, as a great many men did, that a young widow was very interesting; and how long a time it would be before they had made up their quarrels and he was at her feet again! These questions were so full of interest that Mary’s taciturn manner did not trouble her. ‘I daresay she would like to have him herself,’ Millicent said; and the desire seemed so natural that her respect for Mary rather increased than otherwise. If she had let such a prize slip through her hands without so much as an attempt to secure it, then Millicent would have thought her contemptible indeed.
At length there came a moment when it seemed expedient that she too should strike in to the conversation with Mrs. Renton. There was an audible pause. Millicent was not so clever as her mother; but in such a crisis as the present she was put upon her mettle. So long as there were only men to deal with there was no need for much exertion. Nature had provided her with the necessary weapons to use against such simpletons,—her eyes, the turn of her head, her smile, a soft modulation of her voice; but with a feminine audience it was a different matter. There, wit was more needful to her than beauty,—mother wit,—adroitness,—the faculty of adapting herself to her part and her listeners. Mrs. Tracy looked at her with an anxiety which she could not disguise. A statesman looking on while his son made his first speech in Parliament, could scarcely have experienced a graver solicitude. As it was, Millicent addressed herself to her mother with the softest of voices. ‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘does it not seem strange to find yourself here, after all Mr. Ben Renton used to tell us? How fond he was of his beautiful home!’
And then came the expected question from his mother,—‘Ben? my son Ben? Did you meet him abroad? Is it long since you saw him? Dear, dear, why I am looking for my boy home every day. They are all coming home about,—about——’ Here Mrs. Renton caught Mary’s warning eye, and paused, but immediately resumed again. ‘Why, of course, everybody knows! Why should not I say what it is about? It was an arrangement of my poor dear husband’s. They are coming to read the will. We don’t know how we are left, none of us, for it was a very odd arrangement; but I am sure he meant it for the best. We shall be together next month, and I am sure Ben will be charmed to resume his acquaintance with you. What a nice thing you should be in the neighbourhood! The only thing is, that I am afraid you will find The Willows damp.’
‘But what a pleasure for you to have all your family with you!’ said Millicent; ‘and oh! what a delight to your sons to return to you!’
‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Renton. ‘Of course I shall be very glad to see them. And then, to be sure, shooting will have begun, and they will be able to amuse themselves. I am such an invalid, I tremble at the thought of any exertion.’