eing made, but is
never made suddenly.

To Ralph the great objection to Beamingham Hall lay in that fear,--or
rather certainty,--that it could not be made a fitting home for Mary
Bonner. When he first decided on taking it, and even when he decided
on buying it, he assured himself that Mary Bonner's taste might be
quite indifferent to him. In the first place, he had himself written
to her uncle to withdraw his claim as soon as he found that Newton
would never belong to him; and then he had been told by the happy
owner of Newton that Mary was still to be asked to share the throne
of that principality. When so told he had said nothing of his
own ambition, but had felt that there was another reason why he
should leave Newton and its neighbourhood. For him, as a bachelor,
Beamingham Hall would be only too good a house. He, as a farmer, did
not mean to be ashamed of his own dunghill.

By the middle of May he had heard nothing either of his namesake
or of Mary Bonner. He did correspond with Gregory Newton, and thus
received tidings of the parish, of the church, of the horses,--and
even of the foxes; but of the heir's matrimonial intentions he heard
nothing. Gregory did write of his own visits to the metropolis, past
and future, and Ralph knew that the young parson would again singe
his wings in the flames that were burning at Popham Villa; but
nothing was said of the heir. Through March and April that trouble
respecting Polly Neefit was continued, and Gregory in his letter of
course did not speak of the Neefits. At last May was come, and Ralph
from Beamingham made up his mind that he also would go up to London.
He had been hard at work during the last four months doing all those
wonderfully attractive things with his new property which a man can
do when he has money in his pocket,--knocking down hedges, planting
young trees or preparing for the planting of them, buying stock,
building or preparing to build sheds,--and the rest of it. There is
hardly a pleasure in life equal to that of laying out money with a
conviction that it will come back again. The conviction, alas, is
so often ill founded,--but the pleasure is the same. In regard to
the house itself he would do nothing, not even form a plan--as yet.
It might be possible that some taste other than his own should be
consulted.

In the second week in May he went up to London, having heard that
Gregory would be there at the same time; and he at once found himself
consort