'That, situated as they are, they ought not to marry.'
'That is quite another question. I have said nothing about that either to you or to anybody else. The truth is, squire, I have never interfered in this matter one way or the other; and I have no wish to do so now.'
'But should you not interfere? Is not Mary the same to you as your own child?'
Dr Thorne hardly knew how to answer this. He was aware that his argument about not interfering was in fact absurd. Mary could not marry without his interference; and had it been the case that she was in danger of making an improper marriage, of course he would interfere. His meaning was, that he would not at the present moment express any opinion; he would not declare against a match which might turn out to be in every way desirable; nor, if he spoke in favour of it, could he give his reasons for doing so. Under these circumstances, he would have wished to say nothing, could that only have been possible.
But as it was not possible, and as he must say something, he answered the squire's last question by asking another. 'What is your objection, squire?'
'Objection! Why, what on earth would they live on?'
'Then I understand, that if that difficulty were over, you would not refuse your consent merely because of Mary's birth?'
This was a manner in which the squire had by no means expected to have the affair presented to him. It seemed so impossible that any sound-minded man should take any but his view of the case, that he had not prepared himself for argument. There was every objection to his son marrying Miss Thorne; but the fact of their having no income between them did certainly justify him in alleging that first.
'But that difficulty can't be got over, doctor. You know, however, that it would be cause of grief to us all to see Frank marry much beneath his station; that is, I mean, in family. You should not press me to say this, for you know that I love Mary dearly.'
'But, my dear friend, it is necessary. Wounds sometimes must be opened in order that they may be healed. What I mean is this;--and, squire, I'm sure I need not say to you that I hope for an honest answer,--were Mary Thorne an heiress; had she, for instance, such wealth as that Miss Dunstable that we hear of; in that case would you object to this match?'
When the doctor declared that he expected an honest answer the squire listened with all his ears; but the question, when finished, seemed to have no bearing on the present case.
'Come, squire, speak your mind faithfully. There was some talk of Frank's marrying Miss Dunstable; did you mean to object to that match?'
'Miss Dunstable was legitimate; at least, I presume so.'
'Oh, Mr Gresham! has it come to that? Miss Dunstable, then, would have satisfied your ideas of high birth?'
Mr Gresham was rather posed, and regretted, at the moment, his allusion to Miss Dunstable's presumed legitimacy. But he soon recovered himself.
'No,' said he, 'it would not. And I am willing to admit, as I have admitted before, that the undoubted advantages arising from wealth are taken by the world as atoning for what otherwise would be a mesalliance.
But--'
'You admit that, do you? You acknowledge that as your conviction on the subject?'
'Yes. But--' The squire was going on to explain the propriety of this opinion, but the doctor uncivilly would not hear him.
'Then squire, I will not interfere in this matter one way or the other.'
'How on earth can such an opinion--'
'Pray excuse me, Mr Gresham; but my mind is now quite made up. It was very nearly so before. I will do nothing to encourage Frank, nor will I say anything to discourage Mary.'
'That is the most singular resolution that a man of sense like you ever came to.'
'I can't help it, squire; it is my resolution.'
'But what has Miss Dunstable's fortune to do with it?'
'I cannot say that it has anything; but, in this matter, I will not interfere.'
The squire went on for some time, but it was all to no purpose; and at last he left the house, considerably in dudgeon. The only conclusion to which he could come was, that Dr Thorne had thought the chance on his niece's behalf too good to be thrown away, and had, therefore, resolved to act in a very singular way.
'I would not have believed it of him, though all Barsetshire had told me,' he said to himself as he entered the great gates; and he went on repeating the same words till he found himself in his own room. 'No, not if all Barsetshire had told me!'
He did not, however, communicate the ill result of his visit to the Lady Arabella.
