“I’m sure I don’t know, aunt.”
“I hope he doesn’t. I do hope that he does not. I cannot understand what pleasure it is that men take in making chimneys of themselves, and going about smelling so that no one can bear to come near them.”
Brooke merely laughed at this, and went his way, and smoked his pipe out in the Close, while Martha sat up to let him in when he had finished it. Then Dorothy escaped at once to her room, fearful of being questioned by her aunt about Mr. Gibson. She had, she thought now, quite made up her mind. There was nothing in Mr. Gibson that she liked. She was by no means so sure as she had been when she was talking to her sister, that she would prefer a clergyman to anyone else. She had formed no strong ideas on the subject of lovemaking, but she did think that any man who really cared for her, would find some other way of expressing his love than that which Mr. Gibson had adopted. And then Mr. Gibson had spoken to her about her aunt’s money in a way that was distasteful to her. She thought that she was quite sure that if he should ask her, she would not accept him.
She was nearly undressed, nearly safe for the night, when there came a knock at the door, and her aunt entered the room. “He has come in,” said Miss Stanbury.
“I suppose he has had his pipe, then.”
“I wish he didn’t smoke. I do wish he didn’t smoke. But I suppose an old woman like me is only making herself a fool to care about such things. If they all do it I can’t prevent them. He seems to be a very nice young man—in other things; does he not, Dolly?”
“Very nice indeed, Aunt Stanbury.”
“And he has done very well in his office. And as for his saying that he must smoke, I like that a great deal better than doing it on the sly.”
“I don’t think Mr. Burgess would do anything on the sly, aunt.”
“No, no; I don’t think he would. Dear me; he’s not at all like what I fancied.”
“Everybody seemed to like him very much.”
“Didn’t they? I never saw Sir Peter so much taken. And there was quite a flirtation between him and Mrs. MacHugh. And now, my dear, tell me about Mr. Gibson.”
“There is nothing to tell, Aunt Stanbury.”
“Isn’t there? From what I saw going on, I thought there would be something to tell. He was talking to you the whole evening.”
“As it happened he was sitting next to me—of course.”
“Indeed he was sitting next to you;—so much so that I thought everything would be settled.”
“If I tell you something, Aunt Stanbury, you mustn’t be angry with me.”
“Tell me what? What is it you have to tell me?”
“I don’t think I shall ever care for Mr. Gibson;—not in that way.”
“Why not, Dorothy?”
“I’m sure he doesn’t care for me. And I don’t think he means it.”
“I tell you he does mean it. Mean it! Why, I tell you it has all been settled between us. Since I first spoke to you I have explained to him exactly what I intend to do. He knows that he can give up his house and come and live here. I am sure he must have said something about it to you tonight.”
“Not a word, Aunt Stanbury.”
“Then he will.”
“Dear aunt, I do so wish you would prevent it. I don’t like him. I don’t indeed.”
“Not like him!”
“No;—I don’t care for him a bit, and I never shall. I can’t help it, Aunt Stanbury. I thought I would try, but I find it would be impossible. You can’t want me to marry a man if I don’t love him.”
“I never heard of such a thing in my life. Not love him! And why shouldn’t you love him? He’s a gentleman. Everybody respects him. He’ll have plenty to make you comfortable all your life! And then why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t know, Aunt Stanbury. I thought that perhaps—”
“Perhaps what?”
“I could not say all at once that I didn’t care for him, when I had never so much as thought about it for a moment before.”
“You haven’t told him this?”
“No, I have not told him. I couldn’t begin by telling him, you know.”
“Then I must pray that you will think about it again. Have you imagined what a great thing for you it would be to be established for life—so that you should never have any more trouble again about a home, or about money, or anything? Don’t answer me now, Dorothy, but think of it. It seemed to me that I was doing such an excellent thing for both of you.” So saying Miss Stanbury left the room, and Dorothy was enabled to obey her, at any rate, in one matter. She did think of it. She laid awake thinking of it almost all the night. But the more she thought of it, the less able was she to realise to herself any future comfort or happiness in the idea of becoming Mrs. Gibson.
XXXII
The “Full Moon” at St. Diddulph’s
The receipt of Mrs. Trevelyan’s letter on that Monday morning was a great surprise both to Mr. and Mrs. Outhouse. There was no time for any consideration, no opportunity for delaying their arrival till they should have again referred the matter to Mr. Trevelyan. Their two nieces were to be with them on that evening, and even the telegraph wires, if employed with such purpose, would not be quick enough to stop their coming. The party, as they knew, would have left Nuncombe Putney before the arrival of the letter at the parsonage of St. Diddulph’s. There would have been nothing in this to have caused vexation, had it not been decided between Trevelyan and Mr. Outhouse that Mrs. Trevelyan
