what does he mean to say?"

"I don't know at all, mamma."

"Not know!"

"I think he means to tell Lord Bracy that he has got no objection."

Then Mrs. Wortle was sure that the Doctor meant to face all the dangers,
and that therefore it would behove her to face them also.

The Doctor, when he was left alone, sat a while thinking of the matter
before he put himself into the position fitted for composition which he
had described to his daughter. He acknowledged to himself that there was
a difficulty in making a fit reply to the letter which he had to answer.
When his mind was set on sending an indignant epistle to the Bishop, the
words flew from him like lightning out of the thunder-clouds. But now he
had to think much of it before he could make any light to come which
should not bear a different colour from that which he intended. "Of
course such a marriage would suit my child, and would suit me," he wished
to say;--"not only, or not chiefly, because your son is a nobleman, and
will be an earl and a man of great property. That goes a long way with
us. We are too true to deny it. We hate humbug, and want you to know
simply the truth about us. The title and the money go far,--but not half
so far as the opinion which we entertain of the young man's own good
gifts. I would not give my girl to the greatest and richest nobleman
under the British Crown, if I did not think that he would love her and be
good to her, and treat her as a husband should treat his wife. But
believing this young man to have good gifts such as these, and a fine
disposition, I am willing, on my girl's behalf,--and she also is
willing,--to encounter the acknowledged danger of a long engagement in the
hope of realising all the good things which would, if things went
fortunately, thus come within her reach." This was what he wanted to say
to the Earl, but he found it very difficult to say it in language that
should be natural.

"MY DEAR LORD BRACY,--When I learned, through Mary's mother, that
Carstairs had been here in our absence and made a declaration of love to
our girl, I was, I must confess, annoyed. I felt, in the first place,
that he was too young to have taken in hand such a business as that; and,
in the next, that you might not unnaturally have been angry that your son,
who had come here simply for tuition, should have fallen into a matter of
love. I imagine that you will understand exactly what were my feelings.
There was, howev