XI. WHAT PASSED IN THE GARDEN.
|Do you know, Mrs. Calverley, I have never been at your place, Ouselcroft, and I hear it's uncommonly pretty.”
This remark was made by Captain Danvers, as he was seated by the side of the charming widow on a bench near one of the fountains.
“Come and see it, and judge,” she replied. “We shall be at home to-morrow.”
“Give me the greatest pleasure to ride over,” he said. “A country place is charming; but I almost wonder you haven't got a house in town.”
“I think of taking one,” she replied. “Mildred has never been in town—never resided there, I ought to say. Her papa objected to noise and racket—didn't care for the parks or the Opera, and disliked large parties. I don't think he could have stood a season in town. I prefer quietude and the country myself. However, Mildred ought to be considered, and as she wishes to mix a little more with society than she is able to do here, we shall go to London for a time.”
“'Pon my soul! you're exceedingly kind,” cried the captain. “Miss Calverley is blessed with a most indulgent mamma—'sister,' I was going to say, but I recollected myself in time.”
“I shall make her as happy as I can, so long as she remains with me,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “When my late husband entrusted his daughter to my care, he knew I should do my duty to her.”
“And your first duty,” he remarked, with a smile, “is to get her well married. That will be easily accomplished, for I hear there are many prétendants. No wonder!—she is a most lovely creature.”