At first he had not suspected that his friends were wanted with a view to
Charlotte; it was understood that Charlotte and they might perhaps take a
fancy for one another; and that would be so very nice, would it not? But
he did not see that there was any deliberate malice in the arrangement.
Now, however, that he had awoke to what it all meant, he was less
inclined to bring any friend of his to Battersby. It seemed to his silly
young mind almost dishonest to ask your friend to come and see you when
all you really meant was "Please, marry my sister." It was like trying
to obtain money under false pretences. If he had been fond of Charlotte
it might have been another matter, but he thought her one of the most
disagreeable young women in the whole circle of his acquaintance.
She was supposed to be very clever. All young ladies are either very
pretty or very clever or very sweet; they may take their choice as to
which category they will go in for, but go in for one of the three they
must. It was hopeless to try and pass Charlotte off as either pretty or
sweet. So she became clever as the only remaining alternative. Ernest
never knew what particular branch of study it was in which she showed her
talent, for she could neither play nor sing nor draw, but so astute are
women that his mother and Charlotte really did persuade him into thinking
that she, Charlotte, had something more akin to true genius than any
other member of the family.
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