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The major, owing to circumstances heretofore related, was a confirmed bachelor, but he did not intend that his boys should follow so bad an example. He wished Maurice to marry Miss Isabella Dallas, a charming blonde from the West Indies; and David he designed as the husband of Lady Meg Brance, daughter of Lord Seamere. But Jen was mistaken in thinking that he could guide the erratic affections of youth, as will hereafter be proved. Sure enough, the lads fell in love, but both with the same woman, a state of things not anticipated by the major, who was too simple to be a matchmaker. Away they sped down the stony stairs with a great clatter of board and flutter of skirts, winding up at the bottom with a final heavy thump. "Well, if I marry anyone the same thing will happen," responded Isabella, lightly; "and surely. Dido; you do not want me to remain a spinster all my life.".
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"What, you don't mean to say—" interrupted Margaret Howes. "I heard that Jeffries took her to the vaudeville show and I thought that was a tremendous change of heart for nice old Greenie." Her mistress rose to her feet and approached the major. "I wonder what they are like, and if they'll like us," mused Elinor, her gaze on the fire that was snapping on the hearth in Miss Jinny's room where the sewing was being done. "Good-by," said Jen, and as the door closed behind the doctor he muttered, "and may the devil go with you, for a greater scoundrel does not exist.".
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