"No bad news, I hope?" said Helen, who had glanced quickly over the
few lines from her husband, now at Ostend.
"No, but startling. You may as well read the letter."
It was written in Eustace Derwent's best style; really a very good
letter, both as to composition and in the matter of feeling. After
duly preparing his sister for what might come as a shock, he made
known to her that he was about to marry Mrs. John Jacks, the widow
of the late member of Parliament. "I can quite imagine," he
proceeded, "that this may trouble your mind by exciting unpleasant
memories, and perhaps may make you apprehensive of disagreeable
things in the future. Pray have no such uneasiness. Only this
morning I had a long talk with Arnold Jacks, who was very friendly,
and indeed could not have behaved better. He spoke of you, and quite
in the proper way; I was to remember him very kindly to you, if I
thought the remembrance would not be unwelcome. As for my dear
Marian, you will find her everything that a sister should be."
Followed sundry details and promise of more information when they
met again in town.
"Describe her to me," said Helen, who had a slight acquaintance with
Irene's brother.
"One word does it--irreproachable. A couple of years older than
Eustace, I think; John Jacks was more than twice her age, so it's
only fair. The dear boy will probably give up his profession, and
become an ornament of society, a model of all the proprieties.
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