Herbert, however, had by this time found his voice. He was brave enough too and spoke up to the general, in spite of their disparity in rank, as one man would to another.
‘I am truly sorry, sir, to have acted in a manner which is distasteful to you, but I cannot admit that I deserve your harsh words. I have done nothing wrong, sir—’
‘Nothing wrong!’ repeated the general, bitterly, ‘not in seeking to entrap the affections of an inexperienced young girl? Nothing wrong in inveigling her to compromise herself with you by this long and solitary tête-à-tête? Nothing wrong!’
‘I am deeply and sincerely attached to your daughter, sir, and I wished to ask her to become my wife.’
‘Was there ever such matchless effrontery? You? You to aspire to my daughter’s hand? What position could you give her? what would you live upon?’
‘I am not utterly penniless; I have good expectations; I have hopes indeed of succeeding to a title—’
‘That of chevalier d’industrie, I presume. But this is sheer waste of time. I know all about you—all I wish to hear—and I want nothing further. Our acquaintance must cease; I forbid you to enter my house, or ever again to address my daughter. I decline distinctly to hold any further communications with you. If your own good taste does not prompt you to accede to my wishes, I must try to protect myself and my family by other means.’
‘I will win her in spite of you, general,’ said Herbert, firmly and very coolly, although his blood was up. ‘It is due to myself to say that neither by word or deed have I knowingly sought to entangle Miss Prioleau in any engagement. She is under no promise to me; I am not certain whether she cares for me, even as a friend. But if God but grants me strength and health to fight my way, she shall one day be my wife, and that in spite of you all.’
And he walked away, leaving General Prioleau aghast at his impudence.