It must be said in Sir Louis’s favour that he had probably no idea whatever of the estimation in which such young ladies as Mary Thorne are held by those who are nearest and dearest to them.  He had no sort of conception that she was regarded by her uncle and inestimable treasure, almost too precious to be rendered up to the arms of any man; and infinitely beyond any price in silver and gold, baronet’s incomes of eight or ten thousand a year, and such coins usually current in the world’s markets.  He was a rich man and a baronet, and Mary was an unmarried girl without a portion.  In Louis’s estimation he was offering everything, and asking for nothing.  He certainly had some idea that girls were apt to be coy, and required a little wooing in the shape of presents, civil speeches—­perhaps kisses also.  The civil speeches he had, he thought, done, and imagined that they had been well received.  The other things were to follow; an Arab pony, for instance—­and the kisses probably with it; and then all these difficulties would be smoothed.

But he did not for a moment conceive that there would be any difficulty with the uncle.  How should there be?  Was he not a baronet with ten thousand a year coming to him?  Had he not everything which fathers want for portionless daughters, and uncles for dependant nieces?  Might he not well inform the doctor that he had something to tell him for his advantage?

And yet, to tell the truth, the doctor did not seem to be overjoyed when the announcement was first made to him.  He was by no means overjoyed.  On the contrary, even Sir Louis could perceive his guardian’s surprise was altogether unmixed with delight.

What a question was this that was asked him!  What would he think of a marriage between Mary Thorne—­his Mary and Sir Louis Scatcherd?  Between the alpha of the whole alphabet, and him whom he could not but regard as the omega!  Think of it!  Why he would think of it as though a lamb and a wolf were to stand at the altar together.  Had Sir Louis been a Hottentot, or an Esquimaux, the proposal could not have astonished him more.  The two persons were so totally of a different class, that the idea of the one falling in love with the other had never occurred to him.  ‘What would you think of Miss Mary Thorne?’ Sir Louis had asked; and the doctor, instead of answering him with ready and pleasant alacrity, stood silent, thunderstruck with amazement.

‘Well, wouldn’t she be a good wife?’ said Sir Louis, rather in a tone of disgust at the evident disapproval shown in his choice.  ’I thought you would have been so delighted.’

‘Mary Thorne!’ ejaculated the doctor at last.  ’Have you spoken to my niece about this, Sir Louis?’

’Well, I have and yet I haven’t; I haven’t, and yet in a manner I have.’

‘I don’t understand you,’ said the doctor.

’Why, you see, I haven’t exactly popped to her yet; but I have been doing the civil; and if she’s up to snuff, as I take her to be, she knows very well what I’m after by this time.’