"I thought it was odd his name was Tertius," said the bright-faced
matron, "but of course it's a name in the family. But now, tell us
exactly what sort of man he is."
"Oh, tallish, dark, clever--talks well--rather a prig, I think."
"I never can make out what you mean by a prig," said Rosamond.
"A fellow who wants to show that he has opinions."
"Why, my dear, doctors must have opinions," said Mrs. Vincy. "What are
they there for else?"
"Yes, mother, the opinions they are paid for. But a prig is a fellow
who is always making you a present of his opinions."
"I suppose Mary Garth admires Mr. Lydgate," said Rosamond, not without
a touch of innuendo.
"Really, I can't say." said Fred, rather glumly, as he left the table,
and taking up a novel which he had brought down with him, threw himself
into an arm-chair. "If you are jealous of her, go oftener to Stone
Court yourself and eclipse her."
"I wish you would not be so vulgar, Fred. If you have finished, pray
ring the bell."
"It is true, though--what your brother says, Rosamond," Mrs. Vincy
began, when the servant had cleared the table. "It is a thousand
pities you haven't patience to go and see your uncle more, so proud of
you as he is, and wanted you to live with him. There's no knowing what
he might have done for you as well as for Fred. God knows, I'm fond of
having you at home with me, but I can part with my children for their
good. And now it stands to reason that your uncle Featherstone will do
something for Mary Garth."
"Mary Garth can bear being at Stone Court, because she likes that
better than being a governess," said Rosamond, folding up her work. "I
would rather not have anything left to me if I must earn it by enduring
much of my uncle's cough and his ugly relations."
"He can't be long for this world, my dear; I wouldn't hasten his end,
but what with asthma and that inward complaint, let us hope there is
something better for him in another. And I have no ill-will toward's
Mary Garth, but there's justice to be thought of. And Mr.
Featherstone's first wife brought him no money, as my sister did. Her
nieces and nephews can't have so much claim as my sister's. And I must
say I think Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl--more fit for a governess."
"Every one would not agree with you there, mother," said Fred, who
seemed to be able to read and listen too.