"Why do you say this, mamma? What can it matter to me?"
"My dear, M. Grascour wishes you to—to—to become his wife."
"Oh, mamma, why didn't you tell him that it is impossible?"
"How was I to know, my dear?"
"Mamma, I am engaged to marry Harry Annesley, and no word shall ever turn me from that purpose, unless it be spoken by himself. The crier may say that all round the town if he wishes. You must know that it is so. What can be the use of sending M. Grascour or any other gentleman to me? It is only giving me pain and him too. I wish, mamma, you could be got to understand this." But Mrs. Mountjoy could not altogether be got as yet to understand the obstinacy of her daughter's character.
There was one point on which Florence received information from these two suitors who had come to her at Brussels. They were both favored, one after the other, by her mother; and would not have been so favored had her mother absolutely believed in Captain Mountjoy. It seemed to her as though her mother would be willing that she should marry any one, so long as it was not Harry Annesley. "It is a pity that there should be such a difference," she said to herself. "But we will see what firmness can do."
Then Lady Mountjoy spoke to her. "You have heard of M. Grascour, my dear?"
"Yes; I have heard of him, aunt."
"He intends to do you the honor of asking you to be his wife."
"So mamma tells me."