The doctor opened his eyes, and tried to look as though ready to be surprised.
'Something that will really make you look about; and something, too, that will be very much to the hearer's advantage,—as the newspaper advertisements say.'
'Something to my advantage?' said the doctor.
'Well, I hope you'll think so. Doctor, what would you think now of my getting married?'
'I should be delighted to hear of it—more delighted than I can express; that is, of course, if you were to marry well. It was your father's most eager wish that you should marry early.'
'That's partly my reason,' said the young hypocrite. 'But then, if I marry I must have an income fit to live on; eh, doctor?'
The doctor had some fear that his interesting protégé was desirous of a wife for the sake of the income, instead of desiring the income for the sake of the wife. But let the cause be what it would, marriage would probably be good for him; and he had no hesitation, therefore, in telling him, that if he married well, he should be put in possession of sufficient income to maintain the new Lady Scatcherd in a manner becoming her dignity.
'As to marrying well,' said Sir Louis, 'you, I take it, will be the last man, doctor, to quarrel with my choice.'
'Shall I?' said the doctor, smiling.
'Well, you won't disapprove, I guess, as the Yankee says. What would you think of Miss Mary Thorne?'
It must be said in Sir Louis' 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 as an inestimable treasure, almost too precious to be rendered up to the arms of any man; and infinitely beyond any price in silver and gold, baronets' 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 Sir Louis' 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
