While the girls were in London, Mrs Fortescue had by no means passed an
idle day. She had meant to visit several friends with the avowed
intention of talking about her young heiresses, as she invariably
alluded to Brenda and Florence. She would at least amuse herself
hinting at the possibilities which lay before her; but it so happened
that she had scarcely got through her ordinary household duties before
she had an unexpected visitor. This was no less a person than Major
Reid.
Major Reid was, as a rule, considered a woman-hater. Since the death of
his wife he had certainly never paid attentions to any woman. On the
contrary, he had avoided the society of the fair sex, and had employed
himself in his library and garden, living almost entirely alone, except
when his son bore him company. For him to visit Mrs Fortescue,
therefore, on this special day was a great surprise to the good lady.
She had not the least idea that Michael Reid cared for Florence. She
had, it is true, observed his attentions to her on Christmas Eve, but
had not given them any serious thought. The young man was an
acknowledged flirt, and was fond of the society of all pretty girls; and
what pretty girl at Langdale could compare with Florence? That she had
taken a walk with him on the following day had scarcely aroused any
suspicions. The young people were old friends. Florence would make a
great match some day. So beautiful, so rich, so well-born--what had she
not to give a husband? Poor Michael Reid would indeed be a silly man if
he fell in love with a girl like Florence. The visit, therefore, of
Major Reid did not in the least connect itself with Florence in Mrs
Fortescue's mind.
She was up in her bedroom rearranging some of her drawers; for she was a
very busy, active little woman, who kept her place in immaculate order
and never was a moment unemployed. She was so engaged when Bridget came
to inform her that Major Reid would like to see her in the drawing-room.
"Dear, dear!" thought Mrs Fortescue. "What does the man want?"