Captain Bradshaw had not at first received the news which Frank, on his return from his second visit to Staffordshire, had given him of his engagement, with equanimity. Although he had outwardly resigned himself to the failure of his favourite plan, he had never quite given up hope that some day or other matters might come right. Frank's engagement put an end to all this, and he could hardly conceal his disappointment. Frank had, however, anticipated something of this, and passed over the scarcely veiled ill-humour with which his uncle had greeted the announcement that he was engaged to a young lady down in Staffordshire. Frank had turned to Alice, secure that there at least he should find a sympathising listener; and although Alice had spoken but [124] little at first, she presently became as interested as Frank could have wished, and asked very many questions as to her future cousin. “And what may Miss O'Byrne's fortune be, Frank?” Captain Bradshaw asked, rather grimly.
“‘Her face is her fortune, sir, she said,’” Frank laughed.
“I thought so,” Captain Bradshaw said. “That is just like you, Frank—I could have sworn it. The present generation are going to the deuce, I think. I married well, so did my father, and my grandfather, and so on as far back as history tells us anything about it. Here you are—a good-looking fellow, with every advantage—marrying a young lady, of whom I will accept your description as to her personal advantages, but altogether, as I understand you, without fortune.”
“It's very sad, uncle,” Frank said with comic humility, “but you see we can't get all our [125] wants. If Katie had been worth ten thousand a year, perhaps she would have been married a year ago.”
“I don't think money has much to do with happiness,” Alice said.
“Pooh, nonsense, stuff,” Captain Bradshaw said irritably. “What do you know about it, Alice?”
Alice had no answer ready, and, after a short pause, Captain Bradshaw went on—
“There, Frank, I don't want to damp your ardour. I don't like it, and it's no use pretending I do; but I dare say I shall like your Kate very much when I see her, so you had better tell her to make up her mind to like me. You have been very troublesome lately, Frank, but I wish you every happiness, my boy.”
And so time had gone on, the four months the engagement lasted had passed, and Frank went down to be married, taking Prescott with him, to support him upon that arduous occasion.
It was three days later that Alice saluted her uncle on his coming down to breakfast with,
“There is an announcement in the ‘Times’ of to-day which will astonish you, uncle.”
[126]
“What is it, Alice?”
“Well, to begin with, uncle, here's Frank's marriage in—not that that is astonishing. But what do you think of the one under it? 'On Wednesday, at St. Peter's, Manchester, Frederick Bingham, of Hans Place, London, to Margaret, only daughter of the late Charles Farrer, Esq., of Oldham.'”
“Nonsense, Alice, you are joking.”
“It is a fact, uncle; here is the paper, look for yourself.”
“What the deuce does he mean by it, Alice? How dare he marry without speaking to me first?”
“I don't know, I am sure, uncle, it seems strange, but there is a letter on the table for you, and I think it is in his handwriting.”
Captain Bradshaw opened the letter.
“Yes, it is from him.”
“My dear Uncle,—
You will, I am sure, be surprised at the news that I am married. Indeed, I am almost surprised myself. It has indeed been rather a sudden affair at the end, although I have been attached to the young lady for a considerable time.” (Captain Bradshaw did not notice the [127] little look of amused contempt upon his niece's face.) “I should have spoken to you on the subject, but I hate fuss, and I think one marriage in a family is quite enough at a time. I did not, therefore, wish to bore you with my domestic affairs. You will, I feel sure, uncle, excuse any apparent disrespect in my not mentioning the matter to you, but I did not even tell my father until two days ago. My wife is just twenty-one years of age, is pretty, at least I suppose I ought to think so, and has a snug little fortune, which, to a man fighting his way in life, is of importance; and I cannot, like my cousin Frank, afford to be romantic. I trust, my dear uncle, that when I inform you of the particulars, and present my wife to you, you will approve of the step I have taken.
“Your affectionate nephew,
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