His father was to
marry them. And his mother had at last consented to postpone the joy of
seeing Florence till she was brought home from her travels, a bride
three months old. Nevertheless, a great fuss was made, especially at
Buston Hall. Mr. Prosper had become comparatively light in heart since
the duty of providing a wife for Buston, and a future mother for
Buston's heirs, had been taken off his shoulders and thrown upon those
of his nephew. The more he looked back upon the days of his own
courtship the more did his own deliverance appear to him to be almost a
work of Heaven. Where would he have been had Miss Thoroughbung made good
her footing in Buston Hall? He used to shut his eyes and gently raise
his left hand toward the skies as he told himself that this evil thing
had passed by him.
But it had passed by, and it was expected that there should be a lunch
of some sort at Buston; and as, with all his diligent inquiry, he had
heard nothing but good of Florence, she should be received with as
hearty a welcome as he could give her. There was one point which
troubled him more than all others. He was determined to refurnish the
drawing-room and also the bedroom in which Florence was destined to
sleep. He told his sister in the most solemn manner that he had at last
made up his mind thoroughly.
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