'I would take you with pleasure,' said her father; 'but there are two obstacles. One is the expense--that could be got over, I daresay; but the other is insurmountable. The excitement would be too much for my heart.'
His heart was a favourite theme with him; he was not to be troubled or irritated or excited because of it; he was to be petted and humoured because of it. It enabled him to live the life he loved best--a life of perfect indolence.
The next time I visited them, I presented Frances Glaive with tickets for the concert. It required courage on my part, for it was the first step in a new direction.
'What am I to do with them?' she asked. 'You are very good, but I have no one to take me.'
'I was going to ask Mr. Glaive,' I said, 'if he would intrust you to my care.'
Mr. Glaive replied in his heartiest manner, and his daughter was wild with delight. If anything had been needed to complete the spell, Frances Glaive's appearance on that night would have supplied it. For beauty, for grace, for freshness, there was not a lady in the hall who could compare with her. I experienced a new feeling of happiness as I witnessed the admiring glances of the assembly, and Frances Glaive herself was no less happy in the admiration she excited. From that night we drifted into the gaieties of the city, and I became her constant companion--necessarily, because I supplied the means.
I must mention here that her cousin Ralph was also a constant visitor at the house; but although he was on terms of affectionate intimacy with Frances--which I set down, not without jealous feeling, to their cousinship and to their having been much together during their childhood--Mr. Glaive did not seem to care for his presence at that time. I heard Ralph say to Frances at one time, when she spoke of an entertainment to which we were going,
'I would take you if I had money.'
'Get rich, then,' she replied, 'like Mr. Carey; but you are too idle to work.'
I believed this to be pretty near the truth, although he chose to put another construction upon his indolence by saying that it was his misfortune to have been born a gentleman. He was barely twenty-two years of age at the time, but he had learnt that fine lesson perfectly. I came upon them then, and Frances Glaive said that she had just told her cousin that he was too idle to work, and that he had pleaded as an excuse that he had been born a gentleman. How I loved her for her frankness and truthfulness! Ralph turned very red, and said that he would work if he could obtain anything suitable. A little while after this conversation, at the intercession of his cousin, I obtained a situation for him, but he did not keep it many weeks. He was altogether too fine for work. As I have said, I had a jealous feeling towards him with reference to Frances Glaive; his youth, his comeliness, his gayer manners made me uneasy sometimes, and my intense love often magnified this feeling until it became torture. Was not this pearl of womanhood too precious for me to hope to win? On one side there was light; on the other, darkness. There was no medium. Without her love, it was blackest night; with her love, it was brightest day. I determined to know my fate, and soon; but before I had mustered sufficient courage to speak, Mr. Glaive anticipated me. My attentions to his daughter, he said, were becoming conspicuous; as her only protector--a poor and helpless one, he added, with his heart-complaint, which prevented his guarding her and watching over her as he should--he was naturally anxious as to her future. I took advantage of a pause to ask nervously if my attentions were displeasing to him. Not at all, he answered eagerly; but as a father he was bound to ask the precise meaning that was to be attached to them. If ever I had a child of my own, I should be able to understand his anxiety. He put his handkerchief to his eyes, and waited for me to speak. A thrill of unspeakable happiness set my pulses quivering with sweet music. A child of my own--of hers! If such a solemn charge were given into my hands, how sacredly, how tenderly would I guard it! I replied to Mr. Glaive, that my attentions could have but one meaning, and that it was my dearest hope to make Frances Glaive my wife. Then ensued a business conversation as to my means, as to how he himself was to live, and other details. My answers must have satisfied him, for he told me that the day on which I became his son-in-law would be the happiest day in his life.