“Why do you say that?”

“Because it is true.  How happy you would all be if I were dead, and Harry were living here in my place.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, I do.  Of course you would all go into mourning, and there would be some grimace of sorrow among you for a few weeks, but the sorrow would soon be turned into joy.  I shall not last long, and then his time will come.  There! you may tell him that his allowance shall be continued, in spite of all his laughing.  It was for that purpose that I sent for you.  And, now you know it, you can go and leave me.”  Then Mrs. Annesley did go, and rejoiced them all up at the rectory by these latest tidings from the Hall.  But now the feeling was, how could they show their gratitude and kindness to poor Uncle Prosper?

CHAPTER LII.

MR. BARRY AGAIN.

“Mr. Barry has given me to understand that he means to come down to-morrow.”  This was said by Mr. Grey to his daughter.

“What does he want to come here for?”

“I suppose you know why he wants to come here?” Then the father was silent, and for some time Dolly remained silent also.  “He is coming to ask you to consent to be his wife.”

“Why do you let him come, papa?”

“I cannot hinder him.  That, in the first place.  And then I don’t want to prevent his coming.”

“Oh, papa!”

“I do not want to prevent his coming.  And I do not wish you now at this instant to pledge yourself to anything.”

“I cannot but pledge myself.”

“You can at any rate remain silent while I speak to you.”  There was a solemnity in his manner which almost awed her, so that she could only come nearer to him and sit close to him, holding his hand in hers.  “I wish you to hear what I have got to say to you, and to make no answer till you shall make it to-morrow to him, after having fully considered the whole matter.  In the first place, he is an honest and good man, and certainly will not ill-treat you.”

“Is that so much?”

“It is a great deal, as men go.  It would be a great deal to me to be sure that I had left you in the hands of one who is, of his nature, tender and affectionate.”

“That is something; but not enough.”

“And then he is a careful man, who will certainly screen you from all want; and he is prudent, walking about the world with his eyes open,—­much wider than your father has ever done.”  Here she only pressed his hand.  “There is nothing to be said against him, except that something which you spotted at once when you said that he was not a gentleman.  According to your ideas, and to mine, he is not quite a gentleman; but we are both fastidious.”

“We must pay the penalty of our tastes in that respect.”

“You are paying the penalty now by your present doubts.  But it is not yet too late for you to get the better of it.  Though I have acknowledged that he is not quite a gentleman, he is by no means the reverse.  You are quite a lady.”