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'And Horace Meander, the poet. Shall we have him? He is brimful of conceits and affectations, but he's a tremendous joke. 'Mr. Meander is charming. 'Suppose we ask Mostyn and his wife? Her scraps of science are rather good fun. 'I haven't the faintest objection to the Mostyns, replied Lesbia. 'But who are "we"? 'We are you and I, for the nonce.
The Mostyns have married Rawdons so frequently that we are almost like one family, and Rawdon Court lies, as it were, at Mostyn's gate. The Squire is now old, and too easily persuaded for his own welfare, and I hear the Tyrrel-Rawdons have been visiting him. Such a thing would have been incredible a few years ago." "Who are the Tyrrel-Rawdons? I have no acquaintance with them."
Even the old chairs and tables at Mostyn are held as sacred objects by him, though I have no doubt an American girl would trundle them off to the garret. It is the same with the people. He actually regards the Rawdons as belonging in some way to the Mostyns; and I do not believe he has ever been in love before." "Nonsense!" "He was so surprised by the attack.
Natural that the Mostyns should succeed the Rawdons! Bought the right by a dozen intermarriages! Confound the impudent rascal! Does he think I will see Squire Rawdon rogued out of his home? Not if I can help it! Not if Ethel can help it! Not if heaven and earth can help it! He's a downright rascal! A cool, unruffled, impudent rascal!"
No one could give her better local advice, and Ethel quickly discovered that the best general social laws require a local interpretation. Her hands were full, her heart full, she had so many interests to share, so many people to receive and to visit, and yet when two weeks passed and Dora neither came nor wrote she was worried and dissatisfied. "Are the Mostyns at the Hall?" she asked Mrs.
AH! That is not a position I will ever take in any man's heart knowingly." "Of course, Fred Mostyn will have to marry." "Of course, he will make a duty of the event. The line of Mostyns must be continued.
Then they grouped themselves round the fire, and the Judge lit his cigar and looked at Ethel in a way that instantly brought curiosity to the question: "You have a secret, father," she said. "Is it about grandmother?" "It is news rather than a secret, Ethel. And grandmother has a good deal to do with it, for it is about her family the Mostyns." "Oh!"
"That is pure sentiment. Surely it would be more natural that the Mostyns should succeed the Rawdons. We have, as it were, bought the right with at least a dozen intermarriages." "That also is pure sentiment. Gold at last will carry the succession." "But not your gold, I infer?" "Not my gold; certainly not." "Thank you for your decisive words They make my course clear." "That is well.
"But you surely do not intend to invite him here, Edward. I think that would not do." "He is going to the Holland House. But he is our kinsman, and therefore we must be hospitable." "I have been trying to count the kinship. It is out of my reckoning," said Ethel. "I hope at least he is nice and presentable." "The Mostyns are a handsome family. Look at your grandmother.
"Eighty thousand pounds is a bagatelle for the place; yet if Fred forces a sale, it may go for that, or even less. I can't bear to think of it." "Why not buy it yourself?" "I would lift the mortgage to-morrow if I had the means. I have not at present." "Well, I am in the same box. You have just spoken as if the Mostyns and Rawdons had an equal interest in Rawdon Court.
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