“How do you know, you little witch?” returned Erle, staring at her with an honest boyish blush on his face; “do you know that Miss Trafford is poor; that she makes her own gowns, and teaches the vicar’s little girls; and that Miss Selby, of whom you speak so rudely, is niece to a countess?”
“Well, what of that?” responded Fay, scornfully; “if your lady-love be poor, Erle, you are rich enough for both;” but he interrupted her with an alarmed air.
“That is the worst of chattering to a woman,” he said, in a lofty way. “If you give them an inch, they take an ell; who said I was in love with either of them? Do you know my uncle has spoken to me about Miss Selby: he says she is a fine girl and after his own heart; and he has given me a strong hint that an engagement with her will be greatly for my interest.” But Fay turned a deaf ear to all this.
“And the fair-haired girl with the pretty smile; if you marry her, Erle?”
“In that case, my uncle would refuse to have anything more to do with me. No doubt he would disinherit me as he did his own daughter; and Percy would be his heir. Ah, it is all very well talking, Fay,” and here Erle looked at her rather gloomily. “I have never learned to work, and I should make a pretty mess of my life; it would be poor Mrs. Trafford’s experience over again.” And he shook his head when Fay suggested that Hugh should let him have one of his farms. He knew nothing about farming; a little Latin and Greek, a smattering of French and German, were his chief acquirements. “I should have to turn boatman, or starve. No, no, Fay; I must not swamp my own prospects for a mere sentimental idea; and after all, Miss Selby is very nice.”
Fay was very angry with him when he said this, for she had taken a curious fancy to this Fern Trafford, but Erle would not listen to her; he got up and shook himself, and walked to the window, and then very gravely proposed a game of snow-balling in the avenue.
Fay thought he was serious, and expressed herself much shocked at the idea. Hugh would not like it, she was sure; one of the gardeners might see them. As it was, Hugh had told her that he was afraid the servants were not sufficiently in awe of her ever since they saw her playing hide and seek in the hall with Nero.
She confessed that she was very fond of it though, and had snow-balled Nero last year in the Daintree garden, and Aunt Griselda had not been shocked at all.
“Don’t you sometimes wish you were back at Daintree?” asked Erle, turning round from the window and contemplating the pretty flushed face rather curiously.
“Oh, no,” she returned, quickly; “how can you ask me such a question, Erle. I could not imagine life without Hugh. Does it not seem strange?” she continued, seriously; “I have only been married about five months, and yet I find it impossible to imagine myself back at the cottage without Hugh.”