I may die before my uncle. Nothing is
more likely. But then, if I do, Jack would be my uncle's heir."

"I don't believe there's anything in it at all," said Lady Scroope in
great dudgeon.

"I dare say not. If there is, they haven't told me. It's not likely they
would. But I thought I saw something coming up, and as it seemed to be
the most natural thing in the world, I mentioned it. As for me,--Miss
Mellerby doesn't care a straw for me. You may be sure of that."

"She would--if you'd ask her."

"But I never shall ask her. What's the use of beating about the bush,
aunt? I never shall ask her; and if I did, she wouldn't have me. If you
want to make Sophie Mellerby your niece, Jack's your game."

Lady Scroope was ineffably disgusted. To be told that "Jack was her
game" was in itself a terrible annoyance to her. But to be so told in
reference to such a subject was painful in the extreme. Of course she
could not make this young man marry as she wished. She had acknowledged
to herself from the first that there could be no cause of anger against
him should he not fall into the silken net which was spread for him.
Lady Scroope was not an unreasonable woman, and understood well the
power which young people have over old people. She knew that she
couldn't quarrel with Fred Neville, even if she would. He was the heir,
and in a very few years would be the owner of everything. In order
to keep him straight, to save him from debts, to protect him from
money-lenders, and to secure the family standing and property till he
should have made things stable by having a wife and heir of his own, all
manner of indulgence must be shown him. She quite understood that such a
horse must be ridden with a very light hand. She must put up with slang
from him, though she would resent it from any other human being. He must
be allowed to smoke in his bed-room, to be late at dinner, to shirk
morning prayers,--making her only too happy if he would not shirk Sunday
church also. Of course he must choose a bride for himself,--only not a
Roman Catholic wild Irish bride of whom nobody knew anything!

As to that other matter concerning Jack and Sophie Mellerby, she could
not bring herself to believe it. She had certainly seen that they were
good friends,--as would have been quite fit had Fred been engaged to
her; but she had not conceived the possibility of any mistake on such a
subject. Surely Sophie herself knew better what she was about! How would
sh