’I am to have five hundred pounds when I marry. That was Lord Mountclere’s arrangement with Ethelberta. He is extremely anxious that I should marry well.’
‘That’s unfortunate. A marriage with me will hardly be considered well.’
‘O yes, it will,’ said Picotee quickly, and then looked frightened.
Christopher drew her towards him, and imprinted a kiss upon her cheek, at which Picotee was not so wretched as she had been some years before when he mistook her for another in that performance.
‘Berta will never let us come to want,’ she said, with vivacity, when she had recovered. ‘She always gives me what is necessary.’
‘We will endeavour not to trouble her,’ said Christopher, amused by Picotee’s utter dependence now as ever upon her sister, as upon an eternal Providence. ’However, it is well to be kin to a coach though you never ride in it. Now, shall we go indoors to your father? You think he will not object?’
‘I think he will be very glad,’ replied Picotee. ‘Berta will, I know.’
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