And Mr. Anderson showed his love by very unmistakable signs. Sir Magnus too, and Lady Mountjoy, were evidently on the same side as Mr. Anderson. Sir Magnus thought there was no longer any good in waiting for his nephew, the captain, and of that other nephew, Augustus, he did not entertain any very high idea. Sir Magnus had corresponded lately with Augustus, and was certainly not on his side. But he so painted Mr. Anderson's prospects in life, as did also Lady Mountjoy, as to make it appear that if Florence could put up with young Anderson she would do very well with herself.
"He's sure to be a baronet some of these days, you know," said Sir Magnus.
"I don't think that would go very far with Florence," said her mother.
"But it ought. Look about in the world and you'll see that it does go a long way. He'd be the fifth baronet."
"The queerest fellow you ever saw in your born days, and his life is not worth a year's purchase. He's got some infernal disease,--nostalgia, or what 'd'ye call it?--which never leaves him a moment's peace, and then he drinks nothing but milk. Sure to go off;--cock sure."
"I shouldn't like Florence to count upon that."
"And then Hugh Anderson, the fellow here, is very well off as it is. He has four hundred pounds here, and another five hundred pounds of his own. Florence has, or will have, four hundred pounds of her own. I should call them deuced rich. I should, indeed, as beginners. She could have her pair of ponies here, and what more would she want?"
These arguments did go very far with Mrs. Mountjoy, the farther because in her estimation Sir Magnus was a great man. He was the greatest Englishman, at any rate, in Brussels, and where should she go for advice but to an Englishman? And she did not know that Sir Magnus had succeeded in borrowing a considerable sum of money from his second secretary of legation.
"Leave her to me for a little;--just leave her to me," said Lady Mountjoy.
"I would not say anything hard to her," said the mother, pleading for her naughty child.
"Not too hard, but she must be made to understand. You see there have been misfortunes. As to Mountjoy Scarborough, he's past hoping for."
"Altogether. When a man has disappeared there's an end of him. There was Lord Baltiboy's younger son disappeared, and he turned out to be a Zouave corporal in a French regiment. They did get him out, of course, but then he went preaching in America. You may take it for granted, that when a man has absolutely vanished from the clubs, he'll never be any good again as a marrying man."