"I have come," he said, "to tell Lord Kingsbury that I am in love with his daughter." At hearing this the fat little man held up both his hands in amazement,—although he had already made it clear that he was acquainted with all the circumstances. "And I should have been bound to add," said Roden, plucking up all his courage, "that the young lady is also in love with me."
"Oh,—oh,—oh!" The hands went higher and higher as these interjections were made.
"Why not? Is not the truth the best?"
"A young man, Mr. Roden, should never boast of a young lady's affection,—particularly of such a young lady;—particularly when I cannot admit that it exists;—particularly not in her father's house."
"Nobody should boast of anything, Mr. Greenwood. I speak of a fact which it is necessary that a father should know. If the lady denies the assertion I have done."
"It is a matter in which delicacy demands that no question shall be put to the young lady. After what has occurred, it is out of the question that your name should even be mentioned in the young lady's hearing."
"Why?—I mean to marry her."
"Mean!"—this word was shouted in the extremity of Mr. Greenwood's horror. "Mr. Roden, it is my duty to assure you that under no circumstances can you ever see the young lady again."
"Who says so?"
"The Marquis says so,—and the Marchioness,—and her little brothers, who with their growing strength will protect her from all harm."