“But I have thoughts of it.”
“Or that you desire a further acquaintance.”
“But I don’t desire a further acquaintance—quite the contrary.”
And without waiting for further admonitions I left the room and went to seek Mr. Boarham. He was walking up and down the drawing-room, humming snatches of tunes and nibbling the end of his cane.
“My dear young lady,” said he, bowing and smirking with great complacency, “I have your kind guardian’s permission—”
“I know, sir,” said I, wishing to shorten the scene as much as possible, “and I am greatly obliged for your preference, but must beg to decline the honour you wish to confer, for I think we were not made for each other, as you yourself would shortly discover if the experiment were tried.”
My aunt was right. It was quite evident he had had little doubt of my acceptance, and no idea of a positive denial. He was amazed, astounded at such an answer, but too incredulous to be much offended; and after a little humming and hawing, he returned to the attack.
“I know, my dear, that there exists a considerable disparity between us in years, in temperament, and perhaps some other things; but let me assure you, I shall not be severe to mark the faults and foibles of a young and ardent nature such as yours, and while I acknowledge them to myself, and even rebuke them with all a father’s care, believe me, no youthful lover could be more tenderly indulgent towards the object of his affections than I to you; and, on the other hand, let me hope that my more experienced years and graver habits of reflection will be no disparagement in your eyes, as I shall endeavour to make them all conducive to your happiness. Come, now! What do you say? Let us have no young lady’s affectations and caprices, but speak out at once.”
“I will, but only to repeat what I said before, that I am certain we were not made for each other.”
“You really think so?”