children.  Buston Hall should be the residence of the widow till the eldest son should be twenty-four, after which Mr. Prosper would no doubt feel that their client would have to provide a home for herself.  Messrs. Soames & Simpson did not think that there was anything in this to which Mr. Prosper would object, and if this were so, they would immediately prepare the settlement.  “That woman didn’t say against it, after all,” said Matthew to himself as he gave the letter from the lawyers to his master.

The letter made Mr. Prosper very angry.  It did, in truth, contain nothing more than a repetition of the very terms which the lady had herself suggested; but coming to him through these local lawyers it was doubly distasteful.  What was he to do?  He felt it to be out of the question to accede at once.  Indeed, he had a strong repugnance to putting himself into communication with the Buntingford lawyers.  Had the matter been other than it was, he would have gone to the rector for advice.  The rector generally advised him.

But that was out of the question now.  He had seen his sister once since his visit to Buntingford, but had said nothing to her about it.  Indeed, he had been anything but communicative, so that Mrs. Annesley had been forced to leave him with a feeling almost of offense.  There was no help to be had in that quarter, and he could only write to Mr. Grey, and ask that gentleman to assist him in his difficulties.

He did write to Mr. Grey, begging for his immediate attention.  “There is that fool Prosper going to marry a brewer’s daughter down at Buntingford,” said Mr. Grey to his daughter.

“He’s sixty years old.”

“No, my love.  He looks it, but he’s only fifty.  A man at fifty is supposed to be young enough to marry.  There’s a nephew who has been brought up as his heir; that’s the hard part of it.  And the nephew is mixed up in some way with the Scarboroughs.”

“Is it he who is to marry that young lady?”

“I think it is.  And now there’s some devil’s play going on.  I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“But you will have.”

“Not a turn.  Mr. Prosper can marry if he likes it.  They have sent him most abominable proposals as to the lady’s money; and as to her jointure, I must stop that if I can, though I suppose he is not such a fool as to give way.”

“Is he soft?”

“Well, not exactly.  He likes his own money.  But he’s a gentleman, and wants nothing but what is or ought to be his own.”

“There are but few like that now.”

“It’s true of him.  But then he does not know what is his own, or what ought to be.  He’s almost the biggest fool I have ever known, and will do an injustice to that boy simply from ignorance.”  Then he drafted his letter to Mr. Prosper, and gave it to Dolly to read.  “That’s what I shall propose.  The clerk can put it into proper language.  He must offer less than he means to give.”