‘Unless he marries a fortune,’ said Mrs. Hamley, more by way of concealing her palpitation than anything else; for she was unworldly and romantic to a fault.

’No son of mine shall ever marry a wife who is richer than himself, with my good will,’ said the squire again, with emphasis, but without a thump.  ’I don’t say but what if Roger is gaining five hundred a year by the time he’s thirty, he shall not choose a wife with ten thousand pounds down; but I do say, if a boy of mine, with only two hundred a year—­which is all Roger will have from us, and that not for a long time—­goes and marries a woman with fifty thousand to her portion, I will disown him—­it would be just disgusting.’

’Not if they loved each other, and their whole happiness depended upon their marrying each other?’ put in Mrs. Hamley, mildly.

’Pooh! away with love!  Nay, my dear, we loved each other so dearly we should never have been happy with any one else; but that’s a different thing.  People are not like what they were when we were young.  All the love now-a-days is just silly fancy, and sentimental romance, as far as I can see.’

Mr. Gibson thought that he had settled everything about Molly’s going to Hamley before he spoke to her about it, which he did not do, until the morning of the day on which Mrs. Hamley expected her.  Then he said,—­’By the way, Molly! you are to go to Hamley this afternoon; Mrs. Hamley wants you to go to her for a week or two, and it suits me capitally that you should accept her invitation just now.’

’Go to Hamley!  This afternoon!  Papa, you’ve got some odd reasons at the back of your head—­some mystery, or something.  Please, tell me what it is.  Go to Hamley for a week or two!  Why, I never was from home before this without you in all my life.’

’Perhaps not.  I don’t think you ever walked before you put your feet to the ground.  Everything must have a beginning.’

’It has something to do with that letter that was directed to me, but that you took out of my hands before I could even see the writing of the direction.’  She fixed her grey eyes on her father’s face, as if she meant to pluck out his secret.

He only smiled and said,—­’You’re a witch, goosey!’

’Then it had!  But if it was a note from Mrs. Hamley, why might I not see it?  I have been wondering if you had some plan in your head ever since that day—­Thursday, was it not?  You’ve gone about in a kind of thoughtful perplexed way, just like a conspirator.  Tell me, papa’—­ coming up to him, and putting on a beseeching manner—­’why might not I see that note? and why am I to go to Hamley all on a sudden?’

‘Don’t you like to go?  Would you rather not?’ If she had said that she did not want to go he would have been rather pleased than otherwise, although it would have put him into a great perplexity; but he was beginning to dread the parting from her even for so short a time.  However, she replied directly,—­