’What do you take me for?  Of course, I have.  The very first day I went to her.  And now, Beatrice, you may believe me or not, as you like; but if I ever marry, I shall marry Mary Thorne; and if she ever marries, I think she may marry me.  At any rate, I have her promise.  And now, you cannot be surprised that I should wish her to be at your wedding; or that I should declare, that if she is absent, I will be absent.  I don’t want any secrets, and you may tell my mother if you like it—­and all the De Courcys too, for anything I care.’

Frank had ever been used to command his sisters:  and they, especially Beatrice, had ever been used to obey.  On this occasion, she was well inclined to do so, if she only knew how.  She again remembered how Mary had once sworn to be at her wedding, to be near her, and to touch her—­even though all the blood of the De Courcys should be crowded before the altar railings.

’I should be happy that she should be there; but what am I to do, Frank, if she refuses?  I have asked her, and she has refused.’

’Go to her again; you need not have any scruples with her.  Do not I tell you she will be your sister?  Not come here again to Greshamsbury!  Why, I tell you that she will be living here while you are living there at the parsonage, for years and years to come.’

Beatrice promised that she would go to Mary again, and that she would endeavour to talk her mother over if Mary would consent to come.  But she could not yet make herself believe that Mary Thorne would ever be mistress of Greshamsbury.  It was so indispensably necessary that Frank should marry money!  Besides, what were these horrid rumours which were now becoming rife as to Mary’s birth; rumours more horrid than any which had yet been heard.

Augusta had said hardly more than the truth when she spoke of her father being broken-hearted by his debts.  His troubles were becoming almost too many for him; and Mr Gazebee, though no doubt he was an excellent man of business, did not seem to lessen them.  Mr Gazebee, indeed, was continually pointing out how much he owed, and in what a quagmire of difficulties he had entangled himself.  Now, to do Mr Umbleby justice, he had never made himself disagreeable in this manner.

Mr Gazebee had been doubtless right, when he declared that Sir Louis Scatcherd had not himself the power to take any steps hostile to the squire; but Sir Louis had also been right, when he boasted that, in spite of his father’s will, he could cause others to move in the matter.  Others did move, and were moving, and it began to be understood that a moiety, at least, of the remaining Greshamsbury property must be sold.  Even this, however, would by no means leave the squire in undisturbed possession of the other moiety.  And thus, Mr Gresham was nearly broken-hearted.

Frank had now been at home a week, and his father had not as yet spoken to him about the family troubles; nor had a word as yet been said between them as to Mary Thorne.  It had been agreed that Frank should go away for twelve months, in order that he might forget her.  He had been away the twelvemonth, and had now returned, not having forgotten her.