day of his father's
funeral. He followed his leader with a sulky aspect through the garden,
not venturing to disobey, but yet feeling the weight of his chains. And
this was how Wodehouse accomplished his personal share in the gift to
his sisters, of which Miss Wodehouse told everybody that it was "so good
of Tom!"

CHAPTER XLIV.

"Going to be married!" said the Squire; "and to a sister of--I thought
you told me she was as old as Dora, Frank? I did not expect to meet with
any further complications," the old man said, plaintively: "of course
you know very well I don't object to your marrying; but why on earth did
you let me speak of Wentworth Rectory to Huxtable?" cried Mr Wentworth.
He was almost more impatient about this new variety in the family
circumstances than he had been of more serious family distresses. "God
bless me, sir," said the Squire, "what do you mean by it? You take means
to affront your aunts and lose Skelmersdale; and then you put it into my
head to have Mary at Wentworth; and then you quarrel with the Rector,
and get into hot water in Carlingford; and, to make an end of all, you
coolly propose to an innocent young woman, and tell me you are going to
marry--what on earth do you mean?"

"I am going to marry some time, sir, I hope," said the Perpetual
Curate, with more cheerfulness than he felt; "but not at the present
moment. Of course we both know that is impossible. I should like you
to come with me and see her before you leave Carlingford. She would
like it, and so should I."

"Well, well," said the Squire. Naturally, having been married so often
himself, he could not refuse a certain response to such a call upon his
sympathy. "I hope you have made a wise choice," said the experienced
father, not without a sigh; "a great deal depends upon that--not only
your own comfort, sir, but very often the character of your children and
the credit of the family. You may laugh," said Mr Wentworth, to whom it
was no laughing matter; "but long before you are as old as I am, you
will know the truth of what I say. Your mother, Frank, was a specimen of
what a woman ought to be--not to speak of her own children, there was
nobody else who ever knew how to manage Gerald and Jack. Of course I am
not speaking of Mrs Wentworth, who has her nursery to occupy her," said
the Squire, apologetically. "I hope you have made a judicious choice."

"I hope so, too," said Frank, who was somewhat amused by this view of
th