If Miss March were properly talked to by one of her own sex, she might see, as perhaps she did not now see, how cruel was her line of conduct toward him, and might be persuaded to relent, at least enough to allow his voice to reach her; and that was all he asked for.  He had not the slightest doubt that the widow Keswick would gladly consent to carry any message he chose to send to Miss March, and, more than that, to throw all the force of her peculiar style of persuasion into the support of his cause.  But this, he knew very well, would finish the affair, and not at all in the way he desired.  The person he wanted to act as his envoy was Mrs Null.  To be sure, she had refused to act for him, but he thought he could persuade her.  She was quiet, she was sensible, and could talk very gently and confidingly when she chose; she would say just what he told her to say, and if a contingency demanded that she should add anything, she would probably do it very prudently.  But then it would be almost as difficult to communicate with her as with Miss March.

While he was thus thinking, in came the old lady, very cross.  “You didn’t get any rubber of whist last night, did you?” said she, without salutatory preface.  “But I can tell you it wasn’t my fault.  I did all that I could, and more than I ought, to make her come, but she just put her foot down and wouldn’t stir an inch, and at last I got mad and went to bed.  I don’t know whether she saw it or not, but I was as mad as hops; and I am that way yet.  I had a plan that would have given you a chance to talk to her, but that ain’t any good, now that it is raining.  Let me look at your ankle; I hope that is getting along all right, any way.”

While the old lady was engaged in ministering to his needs, he told her of his plan.  He said he wished to send a message to Miss March by some one, and if he could get the message properly delivered, it would help him very much.

“I’ll take it,” said she, looking up suddenly from the piece of soft, old linen she was folding; “I’ll go to her this very minute, and tell her just what you want me to.”

“Mrs Keswick,” said Lawrence, “you are as kind as you can possibly be, but I do not think it would be right for you to go on an errand like this.  Miss March might not receive you well, and that would annoy me very much.  And, besides, to speak frankly, you have taken up my cause so warmly, and have been such a good friend to me, that I am afraid your earnest desire to assist me might perhaps carry you a little too far.  Please do not misunderstand me.  I don’t mean that you would say anything imprudent, but as you are kind enough to say that you really desire this match, it will be very natural for you to show your interest in it to a degree that would arouse Miss March’s opposition.”

“Yes, I see,” said the old lady, reflectively, “she’d suspect what was at the bottom of my interest.  She’s a sharp one.  I’ve found that out.  I reckon it will be better for me not to meddle with her.  I came very near quarreling with her last night, and that wouldn’t do at all.”