could she marry a curate whose only income was seventy pounds a
year?

Chapter XXVIII

The Russian Spy

When the baby died at Clavering Park, somebody hinted that Sir Hugh
would certainly quarrel with his brother as soon as Archie should become
the father of a presumptive heir to the title and property. That such
would be the case those who best knew Sir Hugh would not doubt. That
Archie should have that of which he himself had been robbed, would of
itself be enough to make him hate Archie. But, nevertheless, at this
present time, he continued to instigate his brother in that matter of
the proposed marriage with Lady Ongar. Hugh, as well as others, felt
that Archie's prospects were now improved, and that he could demand the
hand of a wealthy lady with more of seeming propriety than would have
belonged to such a proposition while the poor child was living. No one
would understand this better than Lady Ongar, who knew so well all the
circumstances of the family. The day after the funeral the two brothers
returned to London together, and Hugh spoke his mind in the railway
carriage. "It will be no good for you to hang on about Bolton Street,
off and on, as though she were a girl of seventeen," he said.

"I'm quite up to that," said Archie. "I must let her know I'm there, of
course. I understand all that."

"Then why don't you do it? I thought you meant to go to her at once when
we were talking about it before in London."

"So I did go to her, and got on with her very well, too, considering
that I hadn't been there long when another woman came."

"But you didn't tell her what you had come about?"

"No; not exactly. You see it doesn't do to pop at once to a widow like
her. Ongar, you know, hasn't been dead six months. One has to be a
little delicate in these things."

"Believe me, Archie, you had better give up all notions of being
delicate, and tell her what you want at once--plainly and fairly. You
may be sure that she will not think of her former husband, if you
don't."

"Oh! I don't think about him at all."

"Who was the woman you say was there?"

"That little Frenchwoman--the sister of the man--Sophie she calls her.
Sophie Gordeloup is her name. They are bosom friends."

"The sister of that count?"

"Yes; his sister. Such a woman for talking! She said ever so much about
your keeping Hermione down in the country."

"The devil she did. What business was that of hers? That is Julia's
doing."