He had made up his mind before his marriage to yield in trifles,
and be firm in greater things. But the differences of opinion about
trifles arose every day, and were perhaps more annoying than if they
had related to things of more consequence. Molly knew her father's
looks as well as she knew her alphabet; his wife did not; and being
an unperceptive person, except when her own interests were dependent
upon another person's humour, never found out how he was worried by
all the small daily concessions which he made to her will or her
whims. He never allowed himself to put any regret into shape, even
in his own mind; he repeatedly reminded himself of his wife's good
qualities, and comforted himself by thinking they should work
together better as time rolled on; but he was very angry at a
bachelor great-uncle of Mr. Coxe's, who, after taking no notice of
his red-headed nephew for years, suddenly sent for him, after the old
man had partially recovered from a serious attack of illness, and
appointed him his heir, on condition that his great-nephew remained
with him during the rest of his life. This had happened almost
directly after Mr. and Mrs. Gibson's return from their wedding
journey, and once or twice since that time Mr. Gibson had found
himself wondering why the deuce old Benson could not have made
up his mind sooner, and so have rid his house of the unwelcome
presence of the young lover. To do Mr. Coxe justice, in the very
last conversation he had as a pupil with Mr. Gibson he said, with
hesitating awkwardness, that perhaps the new circumstances in which
he should be placed might make some difference with regard to Mr.
Gibson's opinion on--
"Not at all," said Mr. Gibson, quickly. "You are both of you too
young to know your own minds; and if my daughter was silly enough to
be in love, she should never have to calculate her happiness on the
chances of an old man's death. I dare say he'll disinherit you after
all. He may do, and then you'd be worse off than ever. No! go away,
and forget all this nonsense; and when you've done, come back and see
us!"
So Mr. Coxe went away, with an oath of unalterable faithfulness in
his heart; and Mr. Gibson had unwillingly to fulfil an old promise
made to a gentleman farmer in the neighbourhood a year or two before,
and to take the second son of Mr. Browne in young Coxe's place. He
was to be the last of the race of pupils, and as he was rather more
than a year younger than Molly, Mr. Gibson trusted that there would
be no repetition of the Coxe romance.