In this way the awkwardness of the situation was overcome, and when Marian next had occasion to speak of money matters no serious objection was offered to her proposal.
Dora Milvain of course learnt what had come to pass; to anticipate criticism, her brother imparted to her the decision at which Marian and he had arrived. She reflected with an air of discontent.
'So you are quite satisfied,' was her question at length, 'that Marian should toil to support her parents as well as herself?'
'Can I help it?'
'I shall think very ill of you if you don't marry her in a year at latest.'
'I tell you, Marian has made a deliberate choice. She understands me perfectly, and is quite satisfied with my projects. You will have the kindness, Dora, not to disturb her faith in me.'
'I agree to that; and in return I shall let you know when she begins to suffer from hunger. It won't be very long till then, you may be sure. How do you suppose three people are going to live on a hundred a year? And it's very doubtful indeed whether Marian can earn as much as fifty pounds. Never mind; I shall let you know when she is beginning to starve, and doubtless that will amuse you.'
At the end of July Maud was married. Between Mr Dolomore and Jasper existed no superfluous kindness, each resenting the other's self-sufficiency; but Jasper, when once satisfied of his proposed brother-in-law's straightforwardness, was careful not to give offence to a man who might some day serve him. Provided this marriage resulted in moderate happiness to Maud, it was undoubtedly a magnificent stroke of luck. Mrs Lane, the lady who has so often been casually mentioned, took upon herself those offices in connection with the ceremony which the bride's mother is wont to perform; at her house was held the wedding-breakfast, and such other absurdities of usage as recommend themselves to Society. Dora of course played the part of a bridesmaid, and Jasper went through his duties with the suave seriousness of a man who has convinced himself that he cannot afford to despise anything that the world sanctions.
About the same time occurred another event which was to have more importance for this aspiring little family than could as yet be foreseen. Whelpdale's noteworthy idea triumphed; the weekly paper called Chat was thoroughly transformed, and appeared as Chit-Chat. From the first number, the success of the enterprise was beyond doubt; in a month's time all England was ringing with the fame of this noble new development of journalism; the proprietor saw his way to a solid fortune, and other men who had money to embark began to scheme imitative publications. It was clear that the quarter-educated would soon be abundantly provided with literature to their taste.
Whelpdale's exultation was unbounded, but in the fifth week of the life of Chit-Chat something happened which threatened to overturn his sober reason. Jasper was walking along the Strand one afternoon, when he saw his ingenious friend approaching him in a manner scarcely to be accounted for, unless Whelpdale's abstemiousness had for once given way before convivial invitation. The young man's hat was on the back of his head, and his coat flew wildly as he rushed forwards with perspiring face and glaring eyes. He would have passed without observing Jasper, had not the latter called to him; then he turned round, laughed insanely, grasped his acquaintance by the wrists, and drew him aside into a court.
'What do you think?' he panted. 'What do you think has happened?'
'Not what one would suppose, I hope. You seem to have gone mad.'
'I've got Lake's place on Chit-Chat!' cried the other hoarsely.
'Two hundred and fifty a year! Lake and the editor quarrelled--pummelled each other--neither know nor care what it was about.
My fortune's made!'
'You're a modest man,' remarked Jasper, smiling.
'Certainly I am. I have always admitted it. But remember that there's my connection with Fleet as well; no need to give that up. Presently I shall be making a clear six hundred, my dear sir!
A clear six hundred, if a penny!'
'Satisfactory, so far.'
'But you must remember that I'm not a big gun, like you! Why, my dear Milvain, a year ago I should have thought an income of two hundred a glorious competence. I don't aim at such things as are fit for you. You won't be content till you have thousands; of course I know that. But I'm a humble fellow. Yet no; by Jingo, I'm not! In one way I'm not--I must confess it.'
'In what instance are you arrogant?'
'I can't tell you--not yet; this is neither time nor place. Isay, when will you dine with me? I shall give a dinner to half a dozen of my acquaintances somewhere or other. Poor old Biffen must come. When can you dine?'
'Give me a week's notice, and I'll fit it in.'
That dinner came duly off. On the day that followed, Jasper and Dora left town for their holiday; they went to the Channel Islands, and spent more than half of the three weeks they had allowed themselves in Sark. Passing over from Guernsey to that island, they were amused to see a copy of Chit-Chat in the hands of an obese and well-dressed man.
'Is he one of the quarter-educated?' asked Dora, laughing.
'Not in Whelpdale's sense of the word. But, strictly speaking, no doubt he is. The quarter-educated constitute a very large class indeed; how large, the huge success of that paper is demonstrating. I'll write to Whelpdale, and let him know that his benefaction has extended even to Sark.'
This letter was written, and in a few days there came a reply.
'Why, the fellow has written to you as well!' exclaimed Jasper, taking up a second letter; both were on the table of their sitting-room when they came to their lodgings for lunch. 'That's his hand.'
'It looks like it.'
Dora hummed an air as she regarded the envelope, then she took it away with her to her room upstairs.
'What had he to say?' Jasper inquired, when she came down again and seated herself at the table.
'Oh, a friendly letter. What does he say to you?'