“I have not told you my dream,” she said, with a little laugh.
Jeffray held out his hand to her. She was stooping a little, and her look suggested that she would have liked Richard to kiss her. The man remembered Miss Jilian Hardacre of a sudden, and he gazed at Bess as though some intangible barrier were between them.
“Good-night, Bess. I will think of you—till next time.”
The Lady Letitia, who was preparing for her departure from Rodenham, treated her nephew very courteously, and with a species of pitying kindness that suggested how profound and melancholy her forebodings were as to the future. She had received the news of the betrothal from Richard with unruffled dignity, showing neither malice nor irritation, and even deigning to wish her nephew a happy and prosperous marriage.
“Ah, mon cher Richard,” she said, sitting very stiff and straight on her brocaded fauteuil before the fire, “since I am the beaten party you must permit me to march out of Rodenham with the honors of war. I have been holding out for your liberty, sir, for you are young yet, Richard, nor have you seen a great deal of the world. There, sir, don’t shake your head at me; I will cease croaking. May you and your sweet Jilian be happy.”
The old lady appeared quite affected, and Jeffray bowed to her and kissed her hand.
“I trust that there is no ill-feeling left between us, madam,” he said.
Aunt Letitia remembered her nephew’s loan, and declared that she had never been out of temper with Richard personally.
“You are one of those sweet fellows, nephew,” she explained, “who need defending against their own generosity. Your honor is a sensitive and untarnished virtue, sir, nor have you learned what the world is worth. And now, my dear Richard, may an old woman be permitted to give you some last fragments of advice?”
Jeffray, both amused and interested, expressed himself eager to be benefited by the Lady Letitia’s wisdom.
“Well, sir,” she said, settling herself in her chair, “in the first place, do not count too much on marriage. It is not always the honey-pot young people imagine. And if you find your wife a little gay, Richard, don’t weep over it and make a misery of life, but be gay in turn. You will soon accustom yourself to being amused and satisfied by other women.”