"Florence is too young to marry, or even dream of it, at present, Mr. Stewart; and besides, if I must be candid, I have always entertained different views for her."
"Pardon me, but I believe I scarcely comprehend your meaning. You speak of other views for her; may I venture to ask the nature of these?"
"I have never expected her to marry at all, Mr. Stewart."
"And why not, pray? What can you urge in favor of your wishes?"
"I had her own words to that effect, scarce a month ago."
A proud, happy smile played round his lips, and he replied: "She may have thought so then, but I think her views have changed."
"But for Mary, she would have been the same;" and a bitter look passed over her wrinkled face.
"Excuse me, if I ask an explanation of your enigmatical language; there is some hidden meaning, I well know."
"Mr. Stewart, your mother and I are old friends, and I wish you well; but all good Catholics love their church above every earthly thing. I should like to see Florence happy, but her eternal good should first be secured; you are a Protestant, and bitterly opposed to our Holy Church, and I cannot consent to see her marry a heretic, for such you are: she is too far astray already."
"If your niece were herself a Papist, your reason would indeed be a cogent one; but, under existing circumstances, I am puzzled to understand you."