The American Senator. Anthony Trollope

kind."

      "So I do. How can I help thinking well of you, when I've never heard anything but good of you?"

      "Then why shouldn't you say at once that you'll have me, and make me the happiest man in all the county?"

      "Because—"

      "Well!"

      "I told you before, Mr. Twentyman, and that ought to have been enough. A young woman doesn't fall in love with every man that she thinks well of. I should like you as well as all the rest of the family if you would only marry some other girl."

      "I shall never do that."

      "Yes you will;—some day."

      "Never. I've set my heart upon it, and I mean to stick to it. I'm not the fellow to turn about from one girl to another. What I want is the girl I love. I've money enough and all that kind of thing of my own."

      "I'm sure you're disinterested, Mr. Twentyman."

      "Yes, I am. Ever since you've been home from Bragton it has been the same thing, and when I felt that it was so, I spoke up to your father honestly. I haven't been beating about the bush, and I haven't done anything that wasn't honourable." They were very near the last stile now. "Come, Mary, if you won't make me a promise, say that you'll think of it."

      "I have thought of it, Mr. Twentyman, and I can't make you any other answer. I dare say I'm very foolish."

      "I wish you were more foolish. Perhaps then you wouldn't be so hard to please."

      "Whether I'm wise or foolish, indeed, indeed, it's no good your going on. Now we're on the road. Pray go back home, Mr. Twentyman."

      "It'll be getting dark in a little time."

      "Not before we're in Dillsborough. If it were ever so dark we could find our way home by ourselves. Come along, Dolly."

      Over the last stile he had stayed a moment to help the younger girl, and as he did so Kate whispered a word in his ear. "She's angry because she couldn't go up to the house with that stuck-up fellow." It was a foolish word; but then Kate Masters had not had much experience in the world.

      Whether overcome by Mary's resolute mode of speaking, or aware that the high road would not suit his purpose, he did turn back as soon as he had seen them a little way on their return towards the town. He had not gone half a mile before he met Morton, and had been half-minded to make some apology to him. But Morton had denied him the opportunity, and he had walked on to his own house—low in spirits indeed, but still with none of that sorest of agony which comes to a lover from the feeling that his love loves some one else. Mary had been very decided with him—more so he feared than before; but still he saw no reason why he should not succeed at last. Mrs. Masters had told him that Mary would certainly give a little trouble in winning, but would be the more worth the winner's trouble when won. And she had certainly shown no preference for any other young man about the town. There had been a moment when he had much dreaded Mr. Surtees. Young clergymen are apt to be formidable rivals, and Mr. Surtees had certainly made some overtures of friendship to Mary Masters. But Larry had thought that he had seen that these overtures had not led to much, and then that fear had gone from him. He did believe that Mary was now angry because she had not been allowed to walk about Bragton with her old friend Mr. Morton. It had been natural that she should like to do so. It was the pride of Mary's life that she had been befriended by the Mortons and Lady Ushant. But it did not occur to him that he ought to be jealous of Mr. Morton—though it had occurred to Kate Masters.

      There was very little said between the sisters on their way back to the town. Mary was pretty sure now that the two girls had made the appointment with Larry, but she was unwilling to question them on the subject. Immediately on their arrival at home they heard the great news. John Morton was coming to Bragton with a party of ladies and gentlemen. Mrs. Hopkins had spoken of four persons. Mrs. Masters told Mary that there were to be a dozen at least, and that four or five pairs of horses and half a dozen carriages had been ordered from Mr. Runciman. "He means to cut a dash when he does begin," said Mrs. Masters.

      "Is he going to stay, mother?"

      "He wouldn't come down in that way if it was only for a few days I suppose. But what they will do for furniture I don't know."

      "There's plenty of furniture, mother."

      "A thousand years old. Or for wine, or fruit, or plate."

      "The old plate was there when Lady Ushant left."

      "People do things now in a very different way from what they used. A couple of dozen silver forks made quite a show on the old squire's table. Now they change the things so often that ten dozen is nothing. I don't suppose there's a bottle of wine in the cellar."

      "They can get wine from Cobbold, mother."

      "Cobbold's wine won't go down with them I fancy. I wonder what servants they're bringing."

      When Mr. Masters came in from his office the news was corroborated. Mr. John Morton was certainly coming to Bragton. The attorney had still a small unsettled and disputed claim against the owner of the property, and he had now received by the day mail an answer to a letter which he had written to Mr. Morton, saying that that gentleman would see him in the course of the next fortnight.

      CHAPTER VIII.

      THE PARAGON'S PARTY AT BRAGTON.

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      There was certainly a great deal of fuss made about John Morton's return to the home of his ancestors—made altogether by himself and those about him, and not by those who were to receive him. On the Thursday in the week following that of which we have been speaking, two carriages from the Bush met the party at the Railway Station and took them to Bragton. Mr. Runciman, after due consideration, put up with the inconsiderate nature of the order given, and supplied the coaches and horses as required—consoling himself no doubt with the reflection that he could charge for the unreasonableness of the demand in the bill. The coachman and butler had come down two days before their master, so that things might be in order. Mrs. Hopkins learned from the butler that though the party would at first consist only of three, two other very august persons were to follow on the Saturday—no less than Lady Augustus Trefoil and her daughter Arabella. And Mrs. Hopkins was soon led to imagine, though no positive information was given to her on the subject, that Miss Trefoil was engaged to be married to their master. "Will he live here altogether, Mr. Tankard?" Mrs. Hopkins asked. To this question Mr. Tankard was able to give a very definite answer. He was quite sure that Mr. Morton would not live anywhere altogether. According to Mr. Tankard's ideas, the whole foreign policy of England depended on Mr. John Morton's presence in some capital, either in Europe, Asia, or America—upon Mr. Morton's presence, and of course upon his own also. Mr. Tankard thought it not improbable that they might soon be wanted at Hong Kong, or some very distant place—but in the meantime they were bound to be back at Washington very shortly. Tankard had himself been at Washington, and also before that at Lisbon, and could tell Mrs. Hopkins how utterly unimportant had been the actual ministers at those places, and how the welfare of England had depended altogether on the discretion and general omniscience of his young master—and of himself. He, Tankard, had been the only person in Washington who had really known in what order Americans should go out to dinner one after another. Mr. Elias Gotobed, who was coming, was perhaps the most distinguished American of the day, and was Senator for Mickewa.

      "Mickey war!" said poor Mrs. Hopkins—"that's been one of them terrible American wars we used to hear of." Then Tankard explained to her that Mickewa was one of the Western States and Mr. Elias Gotobed was a great Republican, who had very advanced opinions of his own respecting government, liberty, and public institutions in general. With Mr. Morton and the Senator was coming the Honourable Mrs. Morton. The lady had her lady's maid—and Mr. Morton had his own man; so that there would be a great influx of persons.

      Of course there was very much perturbation of spirit. Mrs. Hopkins, after that first letter, the contents