“Zorah,” cried Jessie, “dear, dear old Zorah! Oh, indeed, I am very, very glad and happy!”
“Bless you, my child,” said the Baronet. “I knew my pet would not blame her poor old father for acting on the impulse of a heart that has never misled him. Yes, I think—nay, I am sure—that I have taken a wise and prudent step. Zorah is not what the world calls beautiful."
“Zorah is very good, and very clean and honest, and quite, quite sober in her habits,” said Jessie warmly, “and that is worth more—far more than beauty, dear papa. Beauty will fade and perish, but personal cleanliness is practically undying, for it can be renewed whenever it discovers symptoms of decay. Oh, I am sure you will be happy!” And Jessie hurried off to tell Stanley Gay how nobly the potion had done its work.
“Stanley, dear Stanley,” said she, “I have such news—Papa and Zorah are engaged!”
“I am very glad to hear it. She will make him an excellent wife; it is a very auspicious beginning.”
“And have you any news to tell me?”
“None, except that all the bottles are distributed, and I am now waiting to see their effect. By the way, the Bishop has arrived unexpectedly, and is stopping at the Rectory, and I have sent him a bottle. I should like to find a nice little wife for the Bishop, for he has Crawleigh in his gift—the present incumbent is at the point of death, and the living is worth £1,800 a year. The duty is extremely light, and the county society unexceptional. I think I could be truly useful in such a sphere of action."
