But she had not been long on foot, or done much in preparation of the cold lamb which it was intended they should eat that day, before she heard her mother's footsteps on the gravel path. She ran out to the front door full of her own news, though hardly knowing as yet in what words she would tell it; but of her mother's news, of any tidings which there might be to tell as to that interview which had just taken place in Baslehurst, Rachel did not think much. Nothing that Dorothea could say would now be of moment. So at least Rachel flattered herself. And as for Dorothea and all her growlings, had they not chiefly ended in this;--that the young man did not intend to present himself as a husband? But he had now done so in a manner which Rachel felt to be so satisfactory that even Dorothea's criticism must be disarmed. So Rachel, as she met her mother, thought only of the tale which she had to tell, and nothing of that which she was to hear. But Mrs. Ray was so full of her tale, was so conscious of the fact that her tidings were entitled to the immediate and undivided attention of her daughter, and from their first greeting on the gravel path was so ready with her words, that Rachel, with all the story of her happiness, was for a while obliterated. "Oh, my dear," said Mrs. Ray, "I have such news for you!" "So have I, mamma, news for you," said Rachel, putting out her hand to her mother. "I never was so warm in my life. Do let me get in; oh dear, oh dear! It's no good looking in the basket, for when I came away from Dorothea I was too full of what I had just heard to think of buying anything." "What have you heard, mamma?" "I'm sure I hope she'll be happy; I'm sure I do. But it's a great venture, a terribly great venture." "What is it, mamma?" And Rachel, though she could not yet think that her mother's budget could be equal in importance to her own, felt that there was that which it was necessary that she should hear. "Your sister is going to be married to Mr. Prong." "Dolly?" "Yes, my dear. It's a great venture; but if any woman can live happy with such a man, she can do so. She's troubled about her money;--that's all." "Marry Mr. Prong! I suppose she may if she likes. Oh dear! I can't think I shall ever like him." "I never spoke to him yet, so perhaps I oughtn't to say; but he doesn't look a nice man to my eyes. But what are looks, my dear? They're only skin deep; we ought all of us to remember that always, Rachel; they're only skin deep; and if, as she says, she only wants to work in the vineyard, she won't mind his being so short. I dare say he's honest;--at least I'm sure I hope he is." "I should think he's honest, at any rate, or he wouldn't be what he is."