“If I have your consent, I think I can manage Lucy,” said Philip, calmly. He spoke with great distinctness, and he meant them all to understand him. It was as if a thunder-bolt had been thrown in their midst: a young fellow like this, nobody in particular, to call the heiress Lucy! Mr. Rushton called her so himself, and so did Ford, and the minister, but all at once such familiarity had come to sound profane. It was quite profane in young Rainy, a mere school-master, to speak so familiarly of that golden girl. They all drew back with a distinct shiver. As for the rector, he again ventured on a little laugh. “You are a bold fellow, Rainy,” he said, “to talk of a young lady whom we all respect so much, by her Christian name.” “I have known her all my life, doctor; we are cousins.” There was no idea of this great respect then. “I will speak to her at once.” The way in which the matrimonial committee drew in their breath made a distinct sound in the room. Speak to her, good heavens! a school-master--a nobody! “You will remember,” said Ford, with solemnity, “that this is the day of her father’s funeral. To speak to her--about any such matters--” “What matters?” Philip knew very well what they meant; but he liked to play upon their apprehensions. “You may be sure,” he said, with malicious gravity, “I shall say nothing to distress her. She knows me, and I think she has confidence in me.” “And you forget,” said Mr. Chervil, who was cool, and had his wits about him, “that it’s only about little Jock.” “To be sure, to be sure, it is not about anything very important,” said the committee, in full accord, “it’s only about little Jock.” And then they all laughed, but not with a very good grace. There was no fault at all to be found with him, an honest, honorable, rising young man--and the girl had no right to anything better; but what was the use of appointing a committee of seven to watch over this momentous event, if Lucy’s fortune was to fall like a ripe apple from the tree into the mouth of Mr. Philip Rainy? The rector, who had thought the stipulations so absurd, and had asked, almost with indignation, whether any one could ever hope to carry them out, even he looked with indignation at Philip. It was like cutting the ground from under their feet, settling the whole business before it had even begun. It was a thing not to be tolerated at all. There was not a word more said by anybody about the unnecessariness of Mr. Trevor’s precautions after this specimen, as they all felt it, of the dangers to be gone through.