Mrs. Walter was almost overcome by the suddenness of the occurrence, and the strong flood of kindness and happiness that it had set in motion. She was a woman with a meek habit of mind, which her long years of servitude had not lessened. She had accepted the insinuation that had run all through the Vicar's addresses on the subject of Mollie and Bertie Pemberton--that the Pembertons were in a social position much superior to her own, though not, as it had always been implied, to his, and that in any attentions that the young man might give to her daughter there could be no design of ultimate marriage. Her dignity had not been wounded by the presentation of the Pemberton superiority, and had only asserted itself when he had seemed to hint that she might be anxious to bridge the gulf between them. But here were these people, whom she had been invited to look upon in that way, welcoming not only her daughter as a particular treasure that she was to be thanked for giving up to them, but including herself in their welcome. Old Mr. Pemberton told her that if she would like to live nearer to her daughter after her marriage he would find a little house for her too; and Mrs. Pemberton seemed anxious to assure her that they did not want to take Mollie away from her altogether, but wished her to share in all that the marriage would bring to them. Bertie was admirable with her. It was a sign of the rightness of his love for Mollie, which had changed him in so many respects, that he should be able to present himself to this mild faded elderly woman, to whom he would certainly not have troubled to commend himself before, as a considerate and affectionate son. He had already embarked upon a way of treating her--with a sort of protecting humour, compounded of mild chaff and little careful attentions--which gave her the sensation of being looked after and made much of in a way that no man had done since the death of her husband. So she was to be looked after for the rest of her life, not to be parted from her daughter, but to have a son given her in addition. She had begun the day with fears and tremors. She ended it in deep thankfulness, and happiness such as she had never thought would be hers again. Bertie found opportunity for a little word alone with Beatrix in the course of the afternoon. "Well, I've fixed it up, you see," he said, with a happy grin, "thanks to you." "I saw you going to do it," said Beatrix. "You looked very determined. Was there much difficulty?" "Seemed to come about quite natural somehow," he said. "But I haven't got used to my luck yet, all the same. You were right when you said I wasn't good enough for that angel." "I don't say it now," said Beatrix. "I think you'll do very well. But she _is_ an angel, and you're never to forget it." "Not likely to," said Bertie. CHAPTER XXV NEWS