Mrs. Fitzmaurice, when she communicated to her husband the result of her morning's visit, saw, without surprise, but with some perplexity, a broad smile spread itself over his countenance, the counterpart, (though less moderated) of that which had so expressively appeared upon the face of Ella.

‘I am surely very dull of apprehension!’ cried she. ‘I cannot for my life understand what it is that seems so ludicrous both to you / and Ella in my mother's consent, or rather, proposal.’

‘Did Ella also laugh when she heard it?’

‘Yes; and look just as wicked as you do.’

‘O then, she is not quite so simple and unconscious as I had supposed her!’

‘Do explain yourself, dear Hugh; what is it you mean?’

‘Well, don't be shocked, and I will tell you. Your mother, I am persuaded, acts in consequence of having learnt that Sedley himself is going into Shropshire.’

‘Can it be? How did you hear it?’

‘He told me so himself at our club this morning.’

‘How provoking!’

‘Not at all. We shall let every thing take its own course, without forming schemes either to attract or repulse him. When he comes to Holme Court – as most assuredly he / will, let it be at his own suggestion; we need not invite him, unless we have a party, from which, it might appear extraordinary to exclude him. Pursuing this system, his vicinity will no more interfere with our habits, and no more require our attention than that of any other man.’

After a little further discussion, Mrs. Fitzmaurice became convinced her husband was right, and reconciled herself to what at first appeared calculated only to give her vexation.

In various ways, Mr. Fitzmaurice was a superior person, and amply justified the implicit deference with which his wife yielded to his opinions.