In the end, it was Mr. Colet who brought the news to the Gatehouse. He brought it to Etruria and so much of moment with it that before noon the election result had been set aside as a trifle, and Mary found herself holding a kind of court in the parlor—Mr. Colet plaintiff, Etruria defendant, Mrs. Toft counsel for the defence. Absence had but strengthened Mr. Colet’s affection, and he came determined to come to an understanding with his mistress. He saw his way to making a small income by writing sermons for his more indolent brethren, and, in the meantime, Mr. Basset was giving him food and shelter; in return he was keeping Mr. Basset’s accounts, and he was saving a little, a very little, money. But the body of his plea rested not on these counts, but on the political change. Repeal was in the air, repeal was in the country. Vote as Riddsley might, the Corn Laws were doomed. His opinions would no longer be banned; they would soon be the opinions of the majority, and with a little patience he might find a new curacy. When that happened he wished to marry Etruria.
“And why not?” Mary asked.
“I will never marry him to disgrace him,” Etruria replied. She stood with bowed head, her hands clasped before her, her beautiful eyes lowered.
“But you love him?” Mary said, blushing at her own words.
“If I did not love him I might marry him,” Etruria rejoined. “I am a servant, my father’s a servant. I should be wronging him, and he would live to know it.”
“To my way o’ thinking, ’Truria’s right,” her mother said. “I never knew good come of such a marriage! He’s poor, begging his reverence’s pardon, but, poor or rich, his place is there.” She pointed to the table. “And ’Truria’s place is behind his chair.”
“But you forget,” Mary said, “that when she is Mr. Colet’s wife her place will be by his side.”
“And much good that’ll do him with the parsons and such like, as are all gleg together! If he’s in their black books for preaching too free—and when you come to tithes one parson is as like another as pigs o’ the same litter—he’ll not better himself by taking such as Etruria, take my word for it, Miss!”
“I will never do it,” said Etruria.
“But,” Mary protested, “Mr. Colet need not live here, and in another part people will not know what his wife has been. Etruria has good manners and some education, Mrs. Toft, and what she does not know she will learn. She will be judged by what she is. If there is a drawback, it is that such a marriage will divide her from you and from her father. But if you are prepared for that?”