“Well, not much about it--only something that regards herself. You will be much sought after when I am gone. All sorts of people will be after you for your money; and I want to protect you, Lucy. It’s my business to protect you. Besides, as I tell you, you’re too important to have just a couple of guardians, like a little girl with ten thousand pounds. You belong to the country, my dear. A fortune like yours,” said the old man, now launched upon his favorite subject, “is a thing by itself; and I want to protect you, my dear.”
This time Lucy, instead of the smile, breathed a little sigh. It was a sigh of impatience, very momentary, very slight. This was the doctrine in which she had been brought up, and she would as soon have thought of throwing doubt upon the ten commandments as of denying that her own position made her of almost national importance. She was aware of all that; it was merely the reiteration of it which moved her to the faintest amount of impatience; but this she very soon repressed.
“She is to be one of them, my dear. You know I don’t wish to do anything in secret, Lucy. I wish you to know all my arrangements. If you came to think afterward that your father had taken you by surprise I--should not like it; and now I have got as far as where you ought to live--listen, Lucy,” said the old man. The big document in the writing-case was evidently his one idea. His face brightened as he took it up and spread out the large leaves. As for Lucy, she sighed again very softly. How the will wearied her! But she was heroic, or stoical. She made no sort of stand against it; and after that one soft little protest of nature, went on with her knitting, and listened with great tranquillity. Her father read the paragraphs that he had been consulting Ford about, one by one; and Lucy listened as if he had been reading a newspaper. It awoke no warmer interest in her mind. She had heard so much of it that it did not affect her in any practical way; it seemed a harmless amusement for her father, and nothing more.
“Do you think you shall like going to Lady Randolph, Lucy?”
“How can I tell, papa? I don’t know Lady Randolph,” Lucy said.
“No; but that’s high life, my dear; and here’s humble life, Lucy. I want you to know both; and as for your marriage, you know--”