"My dears," said their father, when he saw that they did not seem likely to settle the matter among themselves, "Wait til to-morrow, and then play at cards for him." Having said which he retired to his study, where he took a nightly glass of whisky and a pipe of tobacco.CHAPTER XIThe next morning saw Theobald in his rooms coaching a pupil, and the Miss Al abys in the eldest Miss Al aby's bedroom playing at cards with Theobald for the stakes.The winner was Christina, the second unmarried daughter, then just twentyseven years old and therefore four years older than Theobald. The younger sisters complained that it was throwing a husband away to let

Christina try and catch him, for she was so much older that she had no chance; but Christina showed fight in a way not usual with her, for she was by nature yielding and good tempered. Her mother thought it better

to back her up, so the two dangerous ones were packed off then and there on visits to friends some way off, and those alone al owed to remain at home whose loyalty could be depended upon. The brothers did not even

suspect what was going on and believed their father's getting assistance was because he real y wanted it.The sisters who remained at home kept their words and gave Christina al the help they could, for over and above their sense of fair play they reflected that the sooner Theobald was landed, the sooner another deacon might be sent for who might be won by themselves. So quickly was al

managed that the two unreliable sisters were actual y out of the house before Theobald's next visit--which was on the Sunday fol owing his first.This time Theobald felt quite at home in the house of his new friends--for so Mrs Al aby insisted that he should cal them. She took, she said,

such a motherly interest in young men, especial y in clergymen. Theobald believed every word she said, as he had believed his father and al his elders from his youth up. Christina sat next him at dinner and played

her cards no less judiciously than she had played them in her sister's bedroom. She smiled (and her smile was one of her strong points) whenever he spoke to her; she went through al her little artlessnesses and set forth al her little wares in what she believed to be their most taking aspect. Who can blame her?

Theobald was not the ideal she had

dreamed of when reading Byron upstairs with her sisters, but he was an actual within the bounds of possibility, and after al not a bad actual as actuals went. What else could she do? Run away? She dared not.

Marry beneath her and be considered a disgrace to her family? She dared not. Remain at home and become an old maid and be laughed at? Not if

she could help it. She did the only thing that could reasonably be expected. She was drowning; Theobald might be only a straw, but she could catch at him and catch at him she accordingly did.If the course of true love never runs smooth, the course of true matchmaking sometimes does so. The only ground for complaint in the present case was that it was rather slow. Theobald fel into the part assigned

to him more easily than Mrs Cowey and Mrs Al aby had dared to hope. He was softened by Christina's winning manners: he admired the high moral tone of everything she said; her sweetness towards her sisters and her father and mother, her readiness to undertake any smal burden which no one else seemed wil ing to undertake, her sprightly manners, al were

fascinating to one who, though unused to woman's society, was stil a human being. He was flattered by her unobtrusive but obviously sincere Page 26

Butler, Samuel: The Way of All Flesh

admiration for himself; she seemed to see him in a more favourable light, and to understand him better than anyone outside of this charming family had ever done. Instead of snubbing him as his father, brother and

sisters did, she drew him out, listened attentively to al he chose to say, and evidently wanted him to say stil more. He told a col ege friend that he knew he was in love now; he real y was, for he liked Miss Al aby's society much better than that of his sisters.Over and above the recommendations already enumerated, she had another in

the possession of what was supposed to be a very beautiful contralto voice. Her voice was certainly contralto, for she could not reach higher than D in the treble; its only defect was that it did not go

correspondingly low in the bass: in those days, however, a contralto voice was understood to include even a soprano if the soprano could not reach soprano notes, and it was not necessary that it should have the

quality which we now assign to contralto. What her voice wanted in range and power was made up in the feeling with which she sang. She had

transposed "Angels ever bright and fair" into a lower key, so as to make it suit her voice, thus proving, as her mamma said, that she had a

thorough knowledge of the laws of harmony; not only did she do this, but at every pause added an embel ishment of arpeggios from one end to the

other of the keyboard, on a principle which her governess had taught her; she thus added life and interest to an air which everyone--so she

said--must feel to be rather heavy in the form in which Handel left it. As for her governess, she indeed had been a rarely accomplished musician: she was a pupil of the famous Dr Clarke of Cambridge, and used to play

the overture to _Atalanta_, arranged by Mazzinghi. Nevertheless, it was some time before Theobald could bring his courage to the sticking point of actual y proposing. He made it quite clear that he believed himself

to be much smitten, but month after month went by, during which there was stil so much hope in Theobald that Mr Al aby dared not discover that he was able to do his duty for himself, and was getting impatient at the

number of half-guineas he was disbursing--and yet there was no proposal. Christina's mother assured him that she was the best daughter in the

whole world, and would be a priceless treasure to the man who married her. Theobald echoed Mrs Al aby's sentiments with warmth, but stil , though he visited the Rectory two or three times a week, besides coming over on Sundays--he did not propose. "She is heart-whole yet, dear Mr Pontifex," said Mrs Al aby, one day, "at least I believe she is.