pool. His father and mother were both in the drawing-room, but neither of his brothers was now at home. Angel entered, and closed the door quietly behind him.
“But—where’s your wife, dear Angel?” cried his mother. “How you surprise us!”
“She is at her mother’s—temporarily. I have come home rather in a hurry because I’ve decided to go to Brazil.”
“Brazil! Why they are all Roman Catholics there surely!”
“Are they? I hadn’t thought of that.”
But even the novelty and painfulness of his going to a Papistical land could not displace for long Mr. and Mrs. Clare’s natural interest in their son’s marriage.
“We had your brief note three weeks ago announcing that it had taken place,” said Mrs. Clare, “and your father sent your godmother’s gift to her, as you know. Of course it was best that none of us should be present, especially as you preferred to marry her from the dairy, and not at her home, wherever that may be. It would have embarrassed you, and given us no pleasure. Your bothers felt that very strongly. Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for the business you have chosen to follow instead of the ministry of the Gospel. … Yet I wish I could have seen her first, Angel, or have known a little more about her. We sent her no present of our own, not knowing what would best give her pleasure, but you must suppose it only delayed. Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your father’s against you for this marriage; but we have thought it much better to reserve our liking for your wife till we could see her. And now you have not brought her. It seems strange. What has happened?”