Ted. Oh, Fred Smailey’s a good fellow, a thorough good fellow. You do him an injustice, indeed you do; I never knew a man with such a sense of gratitude—it’s perfectly astonishing. Remember how he gave me that splendid colly, when I pulled him out of the ice, last February, and how in return for my lending him money to pay his college debts, he got his father to let me shoot over Rushout—no—no—if Fred Smailey has a fault, he’s too good for this world.
Mrs. V. B. Is he?—at all events he’s too solemn.
Ted. Here’s the dad coming—he mustn’t see me like this. Good-by, Mrs. Van Brugh. You won’t speak of this to any one, I know—not that I’ve reason to be ashamed of it, but it’ll pain Eve and Fred too. I’ll bear up, never fear, and Eve shall never know—after all, her happiness is the great end, and, so that it’s brought about, what matter whether Fred or I do it, so that it’s done. It’s Fred’s job, not mine—better luck for him, worse luck for me.[Exit.
Mrs. V. B. Poor fellow! There goes a heart of gold with a head of cotton-wool! Oh, Eve, Eve, my dear, I’m very sad for you! Is it head or heart that makes the best husband? Better that baby-hearted simpleton than the sharpest Smailey that ever stepped! I’m very unjust. Heaven knows that I, of all women in this world, should be slow to judge. But my dislike to that man, to his family, to every thing that relates to him, is intuitive. However, the mischief, if mischief there be, is done; I’ll make the best of it.
Enter Dr. Athelney, very hurriedly.
Dr. A. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, I come without a moment’s loss of time, to thank you in my late curate Twemlow’s name for your great kindness in presenting him to the Crabthorpe living. He has a wife and four children, and is nearly mad with joy and gratitude. I’ve brought you his letter.
Mrs. V. B. I won’t read it, doctor. I can’t bear gratitude; it makes my eyes red. Take it away. I am only too glad to have helped a struggling and deserving man. Now, I’m very glad you’ve come, because I want to consult you on a business matter of some importance.
Dr. A. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, I have been the intellectual head of this village for fifty-three years, and nobody ever yet paid me the compliment of consulting me on a matter of business.
Mrs. V. B. Then I’ve no doubt I’m going to hit upon a neglected mine of commercial sagacity!