"Go on," said Mrs. March, not the least daunted.

"Oh, there's nothing more. He is simply rector of St. Michael's at
Gormanville; and there is not the slightest proof that any young lady
had a hand in getting him there."

"As if I cared in the least whether she had! I suppose you will allow
that she had something to do with getting engaged to him, and that is
the _great_ matter."

"Yes, I must allow that, if we are to suppose that young ladies have
anything to do with young men getting engaged to them; it doesn't seem
exactly delicate. But the novel phase of this great matter is the
position of the young lady's mother in regard to it. From what I could
make out she consents to the engagement of her daughter, but she don't
and won't consent to her marriage." My wife glared at me with so little
speculation in her eyes that I felt obliged to disclaim all
responsibility for the fact I had reported. "Thou canst not say _I_ did
it. _They_ did it, and Miss Bentley, if any one, is to blame. It seems,
from what Glendenning says, that the young lady and he wrote to each
other while she was abroad, and that they became engaged by letter. Then
the affair was broken off because of her mother's opposition; but since
they have met at Gormanville, the engagement has been renewed. So much
they've managed against the old lady's will, but apparently on condition
that they won't get married till she says."

"Nonsense! How could she stop them?"

"She couldn't, I dare say, by any of the old romantic methods of a
convent or disinheritance; but she is an invalid; she wants to keep her