“Mount Rorke and I had a long and serious talk about you last night. He
is against the marriage, but then he is against marriage in general. He
said with his quiet, cynical laugh, 'I daresay she is a pretty girl--I
can read the truth through your romantic descriptions. I am convinced
that she is very charming. But are you quite sure that you will never
meet another equally charming girl? Remember the world is a very big
place, and the stock of women is large; are you sure that you will be
able to enjoy the charm which now rules and enchants you for thirty,
forty years without wearying of it? These are the questions you have to
consider, which marriage entails.' I need hardly tell you what answer I
made, and how I tried to convince him that your charms are those that
a man capable of appreciating them could not weary of. Indeed I think I
made him rather a neat answer--I said there are books in one volume,
in two volumes, in three volumes, and there are books that you can take
down and read at any time. He laughed; it rather tickled his fancy. And
he said, 'Quite true, there are some books and some women that one never
tires of--that is to say, that some people never tire of. I haven't been
so fortunate or unfortunate, but that by the way. I admit such cases may
occur. I will go further--I will admit that a man's life may be made
or marred by his taking to himself a wife; and if Miss Brookes were a
really nice girl--if she were the one girl in a million, and if I were
sure that your passion for each other has its root in deeper and
more lasting sympathies than those of the skin (these were his exact
words)--believe me, my dear Frank, I should not think of opposing
the marriage. I shall be in London during the season, and no doubt an
occasion will arise, of which I promise you to avail myself, of making
this model young lady's acquaintance. I will tell you what I think of
her; she won't deceive me, let her try how she will. There is only one
thing I bar--one thing must not be, one thing I will not tolerate--a bad
marriage.' I lost my temper for a moment, but Mount Rorke did not lose
his, and I soon came round. It is annoying to be spoken to in that way;
but I remembered that he had not seen you, and I consoled myself by
thinking of how great his conversion will be when he does. My only fear
is that he'll want to marry you himself. So, you see, my own darling, my
uncle is on the 'give,' and we shall win soon and easily. The only real
obstacle is your father's pig-headedness on all matters in which money
enters. I think with terror of his meeting with Mount Rorke. If he
speaks to Mount Rorke as he spoke to me, my uncle will take up his hat
and wish him good-morning. Do you exert all your influence. Do leave no
stone unturned. All depends upon you.”