‘He has said nothing to me.’
‘But he has spoken to me. We shall have to decide it, Cecilia. You know it would be a very proper marriage for you, if—if—— He annoyed me very much the other day, but there is no use in talking about it. Marry him if you like, my dear—God knows, I ought not to prevent you. I can’t bear his family, Cecilia, though he is Fullarton’s nephew—insolent fellow! I have no doubt he is a very worthy young man. You ought to consider it.’
‘What did you say to him, ma’am?’
‘Oh—well, I cannot exactly tell you, my dear. I would not bias you for the world.’
‘But you promised him nothing, aunt? You do not mean that you wish me to accept him?’ exclaimed Cecilia, growing pale again.
‘You are to do what you please. I have no doubt he will have the face to come again. I wish you were settled.’
‘If he were the only man in the world, I would not marry him,’ said the girl firmly.
‘Thank Heaven, Cecilia! What enormous front teeth he has—they are like family tombstones. Take the raspberries to the cook, my dear; I am so happy.’
As Cecilia went into the house a man who had ridden up to the stable and left his horse there entered the garden. Fullarton’s shadow lay across the path, and Lady Eliza looked up to find him standing by her. Her thoughts had been far away, but she came back to the present with a thrill. He took a letter from his pocket, and handed it to her, smiling.
‘This is from my sister,’ he said. ‘If you knew her as well as I do you would understand that it has taken us some trouble to get it. But here it is. Be lenient, Eliza.’