“Dependent on us!” this was such a dreadful suggestion, that all lesser impulses of offence were forgotten. They gathered round him in tremulous anxiety. “You don’t mean to say, Mr. Durant, that they would leave him without a penny? I am speaking to you like a friend,” said Mrs. Bates, “I am not particular to ask if you meant it or not. Would they leave him without a penny?--a young man with all his extravagant ways.” “Would not you do it yourself, if you thought it would stop such a marriage?” said Durant. CHAPTER VI. Durant felt that he had done a good morning’s work. He had succeeded in frightening Mrs. Bates, and striking with alarm the sensible mind of Matilda, and the frivolous one of Sarah Jane. He left them in different stages of perplexity and distress when he came away. They were not more selfish than other people; but the idea of Nancy’s marriage, which they had been so proud of in anticipation, coming to nothing, or coming to so much worse than nothing as to throw the “young couple” on their hands, naturally appalled them. Arthur had, which, perhaps, was also natural, told them as little as possible about his family; he had slurred vaguely over all details of how he and his bride were to live. He had plenty for both, he said; there would be quite enough to give his Nancy everything her heart could desire. What could they wish for more? The daughter of a tax-collector is not usually burdened with very elaborate marriage settlements. “I hope your papa and mamma will be pleased,” Mrs. Bates had said, when she had received the intimation of the betrothal, bestowing on her future son-in-law a tearful kiss, which he bore like a hero. “Oh, no fear of them; they will be pleased when they see Nancy,” he had replied; and with this assurance she had been content. As the time fixed for the marriage approached, no doubt there had been searchings of heart on the subject; but these were rather directed to the question, whether or not he would have any of his family asked to the wedding than to anything more important. Arthur was four-and-twenty, surely old enough to choose for himself, and the idea of consulting the father and mother (it being evident that they were not very likely to be satisfied with the marriage) did not occur to these good folks. A young tax-collector would not think of consulting his family, though he might like them to be pleased; and why should a baronet’s son, a young gentleman, much more his own master than any tax-collector, be bound to what his father and mother wished? Mr. Bates, who had a great respect for the powers that be, had, indeed, grumbled a fear that “they mightn’t like it;” but “Who cares?” had been the answer of his bolder spouse. She remembered this now with a little horror. “Your father is slow,” she said to her girls; “and sometimes we’re all impatient, as we didn’t ought to be; but it’s wonderful how often he’s right, is papa.”