“I hope Miss Rachel didn’t know he was coming in your absence,” said Mrs. Rowan.
“It would look so sly;—wouldn’t it?” said Mrs. Tappitt.
“No, she didn’t, and she isn’t sly at all. If she had known anything she would have told me. I know what my girl is, Mrs. Rowan, and I can depend on her.” Mrs. Ray’s courage was up, and she was inclined to fight bravely, but she was sadly impeded by tears, which she now found it impossible to control.
“I’m sure it isn’t my wish to distress you,” said Mrs. Rowan.
“It does distress me very much, then, for anybody to say that Rachel is sly.”
“I said I hoped she wasn’t sly,” said Mrs. Tappitt.
“I heard what you said,” continued Mrs. Ray; “and I don’t see why you should be speaking against Rachel in that way. The young man isn’t your son.”
“No,” said Mrs. Tappitt, “indeed he’s not;—nor yet he ain’t Mr. Tappitt’s partner.”
“Nor wishes to be,” said Mrs. Rowan, with a toss of her head. It was a thousand pities that Mrs. Ray had not her wits enough about her to have fanned into a fire of battle the embers which glowed hot between her two enemies. Had she done so they might probably have been made to consume each other—to her great comfort. “Nor wishes to be!” Then Mrs. Rowan paused a moment, and Mrs. Tappitt assumed a smile which was intended to indicate incredulity. “But Mrs. Ray,” continued Mrs. Rowan, “that is neither here nor there. Luke Rowan is my son, and I certainly have a right to speak. Such a marriage as this would be very imprudent on his part, and very disagreeable to me. From the way in which things have turned out it’s not likely that he’ll settle himself at Baslehurst.”
“The most unlikely thing in the world,” said Mrs. Tappitt. “I don’t suppose he’ll ever show himself in Baslehurst again.”
“As for showing himself, Mrs. Tappitt, my son will never be ashamed of showing himself anywhere.”
“But he won’t have any call to come to Baslehurst, Mrs. Rowan. That’s what I mean.”
“If he’s a gentleman of his word, as I take him to be,” said Mrs. Ray, “he’ll have a great call to show himself. He never can have intended to come out here, and speak to her in that way, and ask her to marry him, and then never to come back and see her any more! I wouldn’t believe it of him, not though his own mother said it!”
“I don’t say anything,” said Mrs. Rowan, who felt that her position was one of some difficulty. “But we all do know that in affairs of that kind young men do allow themselves to go great lengths. And the greater lengths they go, Mrs. Ray, the more particular the young ladies ought to be.”
“But what’s a young lady to do? How’s she to know whether a young man is in earnest, or whether he’s only going lengths, as you call it?” Mrs. Ray’s eyes were still moist with tears; and, I grieve to say that though, as far as immediate words are concerned, she was fighting Rachel’s battle not badly, still the blows of the enemy were taking effect upon her. She was beginning to wish that Luke Rowan had never been seen, or his name heard, at Bragg’s End.
“I think it’s quite understood in the world,” said Mrs. Rowan, “that a young lady is not to take a gentleman at his first word.”
“Oh, quite,” said Mrs. Tappitt.
“We’ve all of us daughters,” said Mrs. Rowan.
“Yes, all of us,” said Mrs. Tappitt. “That’s what makes it so fitting that we should discuss this matter together in a friendly feeling.”
“My son is a very good young man—a very good young man indeed.”
“But a little hasty, perhaps,” said Mrs. Tappitt.
“If you’ll allow me, Mrs. Tappitt.”
“Oh, certainly, Mrs. Rowan.”
“A very good young man indeed; and I don’t think it at all probable that in such a matter as this he will act in opposition to his mother’s wishes. He has his way to make in the world.”
“Which will never be in the brewery line,” said Mrs. Tappitt.
“He has his way to make in the world,” continued Mrs. Rowan, with much severity; “and if he marries in four or five years’ time, that will be quite as soon as he ought to think of doing. I’m sure you will agree with me, Mrs. Ray, that long engagements are very bad, particularly for the lady.”
“He wanted to be married next month,” said Mrs. Ray.
“Ah, yes; that shows that the whole thing couldn’t come to much. If there was an engagement at all, it must be a very long one. Years must roll by.” From the artistic manner in which Mrs. Rowan allowed her voice to dwell upon the words which signified duration of space, any hope of a marriage between Luke and Rachel seemed to be put off at any rate to some future century. “Years must roll by, and we all know what that means. The lady dies of a broken heart, while the gentleman lives in a bachelor’s rooms, and dines always at his club. Nobody can wish such a state of things as that, Mrs. Ray.”
“I knew a girl who was engaged for seven years,” said Mrs. Tappitt, “and she wore herself to a thread-paper—so she did. And then he married his housekeeper after all.”
“I’d sooner see my girl make up her mind to be an old maid than let her have a long engagement,” said Mrs. Rowan.
“And so would I, my girls, all three. If anybody comes, I say to them, ‘Let your papa see them. He’ll know what’s the meaning of it.’ It don’t do for young girls to manage those things all themselves. Not but what I think my girls have almost as much wit about them as I have. I won’t mention any names, but there’s a young man about here as well-to-do as
