Mary soon after married, and Sarah was left more to herself and her independent ways than ever, and what with her societies and Sunday-schools, and the many occupations she contrived to make for herself, time rolled quietly on, and Sarah continued very much fulfilling the destiny her sister had long since predicted would be her fate.
“Charlotte,” said Mr. Eldon to his wife one day about this time, “what is Allen doing forever at your father’s? It seems to me that I never go there that I do not meet him.”
“I don’t know,” answered Mrs. Eldon carelessly. “Yet, now that you speak of it, I remember that he is there a good deal. He is such a quiet, silent person that one sees him without thinking of him. I wonder what does take him there. I suppose it is a habit he has fallen into. You know young men will sometimes visit at a house without any particular object.”
“That may be,” replied her husband, “but I do not think it is so in the present instance. I think Allen admires Sarah.”
“Do you?” said his wife with surprise, for the idea of Sarah’s exciting particular admiration was new to her. “I should be sorry for him if it were so,” she added.
“Why so?” inquired Mr. Eldon.
“Because,” she replied, “he seems an amiable young man, and I should be sorry for his disappointment.”
“But I am not so sure he will be disappointed,” pursued Mr. Eldon.
“My dear husband!” exclaimed Mrs. Eldon almost indignantly, “you surely do not suppose that Sarah would have a man so inferior to herself as Allen—he is a gentlemanly, amiable person, but decidedly weak.”
“Sarah would not be the first clever woman who has married a fool,” continued Mr. Eldon.