Johnstone."
"But is he pleased?" asked Mary, with a little persistence.
"Yes, he is well pleased; he already loves him as a son. Mary, perhaps
the thing that most readily won my heart was his reverence and tender
courtesy to my father."
"I can believe it, Betty. His manners are perfect. I was only making
that same remark to Deborah this morning. Yes, I knew only one other
whose manners could compare with your John Johnstone's, Betty--only
one."
Mary Jones sighed deeply and looked down. Betty gently pressed her hand.
Hitherto she had always laughed at her friend's tender recollections;
now, it seemed to her that her eyes were opened to her former cruelty.
But Mistress Mary was too much interested to waste too much time even on
such reflections.
"You must tell me all, dear," she said. "What is his family? Has he
parents living, brothers and sisters? Is his fortune assured?"
"Ah, there is some little difficulty there," answered Betty, her face
falling a little. "He has no parents, no friends, no kindred; he is all
alone in the wide world. And as for his fortune, that is assured, but it
is somehow mysteriously bound up in trusts--I know not what--he has no
papers to show my father, he asks for perfect confidence."
Mistress Mary was a prudent woman. She pursed up her lips and uttered a
little sound expressive of discontent.
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