“I never deceived you in my life, John Shelley. How dare you say such a thing?” retorted Mrs. Shelley, warmly.
“Polly, it is no use being angry about it; you have done wrong, and you know it as well as I. From what I saw the other day and to-day it is very clear this gentleman has been coming here pretty often, and you kept it from me, knowing well enough I should have put a stop to it, had I known it, long ago, as I shall do now, though I misdoubt me but the mischief is done already, for I am afraid Fairy has lost her heart.”
“And pray why should you want to put a stop to it? Why should not Fairy marry Mr. de Courcy if they care for each other?” asked Mrs. Shelley, anxious to divert John’s attention from her offence.
“For two excellent reasons. First, we know nothing at all about him; pleasant as he appears, he may be a scamp for aught we know; and in the next place, supposing he is all he appears, it is quite certain neither Lady Oafham nor his own parents would hear of his marrying the foster-child of a poor shepherd.”
“Mr. de Courcy a scamp! I am as certain he is all he seems to be as I am that you are an honest man, and for all we know Fairy may be as well-born as he is; and as for your stopping it, you will have a hard task to do that, I am sure.”
“Hard or not, I shall do it, and at once,” said John, decidedly, and Mrs. Shelley saw he was too vexed to be persuaded not to take the matter in his own hands, and, conscious as she was that he was right and that she had acted foolishly, though she was too proud to acknowledge it, she now thought it wiser to say no more about it, though she was intensely curious to know what he would do.
The next morning, when Fairy came back from the rectory to dinner, which these two generally ate alone, John and Charlie taking theirs with them, for they went as far as five or six miles from home with their flocks, Mrs. Shelley thought it better to warn Fairy of what was in store for her before Mr. de Courcy made his appearance that afternoon, as in the ordinary course of things he was sure to do; so, waiting till Fairy had finished her dinner, lest her news should destroy the girl’s appetite, small enough at all times in Mrs. Shelley’s opinion, she said, “Fairy, John is very angry with me for letting Mr. de Courcy come here so often. He told me of it last night after you were gone to bed, and he has not opened his lips to me since.”
“John angry! Why should he be angry, mother? I thought he liked Mr. de Courcy. Perhaps some more sheep have died, and he is only grieving for them. You have made a mistake; he can’t be angry about me.”
“But he is, though. What is more, he is going to put a stop to Mr. de Courcy coming here.”
“Oh, but mother, he can’t do that. I shall tell Rex—I mean Mr. de Courcy—I wish him to come, and he just won’t pay any attention to John. He will come all the same, I am sure,” said Fairy, not at all alarmed by John’s threat.