“What have you heard, mamma?”
“I’m sure I hope she’ll be happy; I’m sure I do. But it’s a great venture, a terribly great venture.”
“What is it, mamma?” And Rachel, though she could not yet think that her mother’s budget could be equal in importance to her own, felt that there was that which it was necessary that she should hear.
“Your sister is going to be married to Mr. Prong.”
“Dolly?”
“Yes, my dear. It’s a great venture; but if any woman can live happy with such a man, she can do so. She’s troubled about her money;—that’s all.”
“Marry Mr. Prong! I suppose she may if she likes. Oh dear! I can’t think I shall ever like him.”
“I never spoke to him yet, so perhaps I oughtn’t to say; but he doesn’t look a nice man to my eyes. But what are looks, my dear? They’re only skin deep; we ought all of us to remember that always, Rachel; they’re only skin deep; and if, as she says, she only wants to work in the vineyard, she won’t mind his being so short. I dare say he’s honest;—at least I’m sure I hope he is.”
“I should think he’s honest, at any rate, or he wouldn’t be what he is.”
“There’s some of them are so very fond of money;—that is, if all that we hear is true. Perhaps he mayn’t care about it; let us hope that he doesn’t; but if so he’s a great exception. However, she means to have it tied up as close as possible, and I think she’s right. Where would she be if he was to go away some fine morning and leave her? You see, he’s got nobody belonging to him. I own I do like people who have got people belonging to them; you feel sure, in a sort of way, that they’ll go on living in their own houses.”
Rachel immediately reflected that Luke Rowan had people belonging to him—very nice people—and that everybody knew who he was and from whence he came.
“But she has quite made up her mind about it,” continued Mrs. Ray; “and when I saw that I didn’t say very much against it. What was the use? It isn’t as though he wasn’t quite respectable. He is a clergyman, you know, my dear, though he never was at any of the regular colleges; and he might be a bishop, just as much as if he had been; so they tell me. And I really don’t think that she would ever have come back to the cottage—not unless you had promised to have been ruled by her in everything.”
“I certainly shouldn’t have done that;” and Rachel, as she made this assurance with some little obstinacy in her voice, told herself that for the future she meant to be ruled by a very different person indeed.
“No, I suppose not; and I’m sure I shouldn’t have asked you, because I think it isn’t the thing, dragging people away out of their own parishes, here and there, to anybody’s church. And I told her that though I would of course go and hear Mr. Prong now and then if she married him, I wouldn’t leave Mr. Comfort, not as a regular thing. But she didn’t seem to mind that now, much as she used always to be saying about it.”
“And when is it to be, mamma?”
“On Friday; that is, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!”
“That is, she’s to go and tell him tomorrow that she means to take him—or he’s to come to her at Miss Pucker’s lodgings. It’s not to be wondered at when one sees Miss Pucker, really; and I’m not sure I’d not have done the same if I’d been living with her too; only I don’t think I ever should have begun. I think it’s living with Miss Pucker has made her do it; I do indeed, my dear. Well, now that I have told you, I suppose I may as well go and get ready for dinner.”
“I’ll come with you, mamma. The potatoes are strained, and Kitty can put the things on the table. Mamma”—and now they were on the stairs—“I’ve got something to tell also.”
We’ll leave Mrs. Ray to eat her dinner, and Rachel to tell her story, merely adding a word to say that the mother did not stint the measure of her praise, or refuse her child the happiness of her sympathy. That evening was probably the happiest of Rachel’s existence, although its full proportions of joy were marred by an unforeseen occurrence. At four o’clock a note came from Rowan to his “Dearest Rachel,” saying that he had been called away by telegraph to London about that “horrid brewery business.” He would write from there. But Rachel was almost as happy without him, talking about him, as she would have been in his presence, listening to him.
XV
Maternal Eloquence
On the Friday morning there was a solemn conference at the brewery between Mrs. Tappitt and Mrs. Rowan. Mrs. Rowan found herself to be in some difficulty as to the line of action which she ought to take, and the alliances which she ought to form. She was passionately attached to her son, and for Mrs. Tappitt she had no strong liking. But then she was very averse to this proposed marriage with Rachel Ray, and was willing for a while to make a treaty with Mrs. Tappitt, offensive and defensive, as against her own son, if by doing so she could put a stop to so outrageous a proceeding on his part. He had seen her before he started for London, and had told her both the occurrences of the day. He had described to her how Tappitt had turned him out of the brewery, poker in hand, and how, in consequence of Tappitt’s “pigheaded obstinacy,” it was now necessary that their joint affairs should be set right by the hand of the law. He
