On that same Thursday, the Thursday on which Mary Lowther wrote her two despatches to Bullhampton, Miss Marrable sent a note down to Parson John, requesting that she might have an interview with him. If he were at home and disengaged, she would go down to him that evening, or he might, if he pleased, come to her. The former she thought would be preferable. Parson John assented², and very soon after dinner the private brougham came round from the Dragon, and conveyed Miss Marrable down to the rectory at Lowtown.

“I am going down to Parson John,” said she to Mary. “I think it best to speak to him about the engagement.”

Mary received the information with a nod of her head that was intended to be gracious, and Aunt Sarah proceeded on her way. She found her cousin alone in his study, and immediately opened the subject which had brought her down the hill. “Walter, I believe, has told you about this engagement, Mr. Marrable.”

“Never was so astonished in my life! He told me last night. I had begun to think that he was getting very fond of her, but I didn’t suppose it would come to this.”

“Don’t you think it very imprudent?”

“Of course it’s imprudent, Sarah. It don’t require any thinking to be aware of that. It’s downright stupid;—two cousins with nothing a year between them, when no doubt each of them might do very well. They’re well-born, and well-looking, and clever, and all that. It’s absurd, and I don’t suppose it will ever come to anything.”

“Did you tell Walter what you thought?”

“Why should I tell him? He knows what I think without my telling him; and he wouldn’t care a pinch of snuff for my opinion. I tell you because you ask me.”

“But ought not something to be done to prevent it?”

“What can we do? I might tell him that I wouldn’t have him here any more, but I shouldn’t like to do that. Perhaps she’ll do your bidding.”

“I fear not, Mr. Marrable.”

“Then you may be quite sure he won’t do mine. He’ll go away and forget her. That’ll be the end of it. It’ll be as good as a year gone out of her life, and she’ll lose this other lover of hers at—what’s the name of the place? It’s a pity, but that’s what she’ll have to go through.”

“Is he so light as that?” asked Aunt Sarah, shocked.

“He’s about the same as other men, I take it; and she’ll be the same as other girls. They like to have their bit of fun now, and there’d be no great harm,—only such fun costs the lady so plaguy dear. As for their being married, I don’t think Walter will ever be such a fool as that.”

分享到：