Parson John Marrable, though he said nothing in his letters to Dunripple about the doings of his nephew at Loring, was by no means equally reticent in his speech at Loring as to the doings at Dunripple. How he came by his news he did not say, but he had ever so much to tell. And Miss Marrable, who knew him well, was aware that his news was not simple gossip, but was told with an object. In his way, Parson John was a crafty man, who was always doing a turn of business. To his mind it was clearly inexpedient, and almost impracticable, that his nephew and Mary Lowther should ever become man and wife. He knew that they were separated; but he knew, also, that they had agreed to separate on terms which would easily admit of being reconsidered. He, too, had heard of Edith Brownlow, and had heard that if a marriage could be arranged between Walter and Edith, the family troubles would be in a fair way of settlement. No good could come to anybody from that other marriage. As for Mary Lowther, it was manifestly her duty to become Mrs. Gilmore. He therefore took some trouble to let the ladies at Uphill know that Captain Marrable had been received very graciously at Dunripple; that he was making himself very happy there, hunting, shooting, and forgetting his old troubles; that it was understood that he was to be recognised as the heir;—and that there was a young lady in the case, the favourite of Sir Gregory.

He understood the world too well to say a word to Mary Lowther herself about her rival. Mary would have perceived his drift. But he expressed his ideas about Edith confidentially to Miss Marrable, fully alive to the fact that Miss Marrable would know how to deal with her niece. “It is by far the best thing that could have happened to him,” said the parson. “As for going out to India again, for a man with his prospects it was very bad.”

“But his cousin isn’t much older than he is,” suggested Miss Marrable.

“Yes he is,—a great deal older. And Gregory’s health is so bad that his life is not worth a year’s purchase. Poor fellow! they tell me he only cares to live till he has got his book out. The truth is that if Walter could make a match of it with Edith Brownlow, they might arrange something about the property which would enable him to live there just as though the place were his own. The Colonel would be the only stumbling-block, and after what he has done, he could hardly refuse to agree to anything.”

“They’d have to pay him,” said Miss Marrable.

“Then he must be paid, that’s all. My brother Gregory is wrapped up in that girl, and he would do anything for her welfare. I’m told that she and Walter have taken very kindly to each other already.”

It would be better for Mary Lowther that Walter Marrable should marry Edith Brownlow. Such, at least, was Miss Marrable’s belief. She could see that Mary, though she bore herself bravely, still did so as one who had received a wound for which there was no remedy;—as a man who has lost a leg and who nevertheless intends to enjoy life though he knows that he never can walk again. But in this case, the real bar to walking was the hope in Mary’s breast,—a hope that was still present, though it was not nourished,—that the leg was not irremediably lost. If Captain Marrable would finish all that by marrying Edith, then,—so thought Miss Marrable,—in process of time the cure would be made good, and there might be another leg. She did not believe much in the Captain’s constancy, and was quite ready to listen to the story about another love. And so from day to day words were dropped into Mary’s ear which had their effect.

“I must say that I am glad that he is not to go to India,” said Miss Marrable to her niece.

“So, indeed, am I,” answered Mary.

“In the first place it is such an excellent thing that he should be on good terms at Dunripple. He must inherit the property some day, and the title too.”

To this Mary made no reply. It seemed to her to have been hard that the real state of things should not have been explained to her before she gave up her lover. She had then regarded any hope of relief from Dunripple as being beyond measure distant. There had been a possibility, and that was all,—a chance to which no prudent man or woman would have looked in making their preparations for the life before them. That had been her idea as to the Dunripple prospects; and now it seemed that on a sudden Walter was to be regarded as almost the immediate heir. She did not blame him; but it did appear to be hard upon her.

“I don’t see the slightest reason why he shouldn’t live at Dunripple,” continued Miss Marrable.

“Only that he would be dependent. I suppose he does not mean to sell out of the army altogether.”

“At any rate, he may be backwards and forwards. You see, there is no chance of Sir Gregory’s own son marrying.”

“So they say.”

“And his position would be really that of a younger brother in similar circumstances.”

Mary paused a moment before she replied, and then she spoke out.

“Dear Aunt Sarah, what does all this mean? I know you are speaking at me, and yet I don’t quite understand it. Everything between me and Captain Marrable is over. I have no possible means of influencing his life. If I were told to-morrow that he had given up the army and taken to living altogether at Dunripple, I should have no means of judging whether he had done well or ill. Indeed, I should have no right to judge.”

“You must be glad that the family should be united.”

“I am glad. Now, is that all?”

“I want you to bring yourself to think without regret of his probable marriage with this young lady.”

“You don’t suppose I shall blame him if he marries her.”

“But I want you to see it in such a light that it shall not make you unhappy.”

“I think, dear aunt, that we had better not talk of it. I can assure you of this, that if I could prevent him from marrying by holding up my little finger, I would not do it.”

“It would be ten thousand pities,” urged the old lady, “that either his life or yours should be a sacrifice to a little episode, which, after all, only took a week or two in the acting.”

“I can only answer for myself,” said Mary. “I don’t mean to be a sacrifice.”

There were many such conversations, and by degrees they did have an effect upon Mary Lowther. She learned to believe that it was probable that Captain Marrable should marry Miss Brownlow, and, of course, asked herself questions as to the effect such a marriage would have upon herself, which she answered more fully than she did those which were put to her by her aunt. Then there came to Parson John some papers, which required his signature, in reference to the disposal of a small sum of money, he having been one of the trustees to his brother’s marriage settlement. This was needed in regard to some provision which the baronet was making for his niece, and which, if read aright, would rather have afforded evidence against than in favour of the chance of her immediate marriage; but it was taken at Loring to signify that the thing was to be done, and that the courtship was............