"Yes; but, after all, what is age! and"——(home-thrust) "your own mother—dear Aunt Venetia—did the same."
Philip now began to pace the room, whilst Lola looked furtively at the clock. At last he came to a halt, and said:
"What does your mother say?"
"Nothing, poor dear, for she knows. The boys, Edgar and Billy, are simply furious with me. They have not seen the family skeleton—they think I am doing this—because—Mr. Waldershare is fabulously rich—and they say I have no more heart than a sea anemone. Bill declares that I was always greedy, and took more than my share of jam and the pony, and neither of them will come to the wedding. They will never forgive me, and neither will you——" and Lola buried her face in a cushion, and wept—that is to say, drew long, gasping sighs.
"Listen to me, Lola," said her lover, authoritatively; "I have a suggestion to make." She looked up quickly, and dried her eyes with a scrap of lace. "My idea is not as mad as it sounds. I have ten thousand pounds in the funds. It is my own, and yours. Let us pay your father's most pressing claims with this—always remember that it is yours as much as mine. I will leave the service, and we will all go to New Zealand, you and I—your father and mother—and the boys, if they like?"
Lola sat erect, and stared at him fixedly and gasped; but he was too full of his subject, and too profoundly in earnest, to notice her expression.
"You see," he resumed, "I am a really fair practical engineer, and I'll build our quarters; your father and I can farm. There is a splendid breed of horses, a fine climate, a fine country; we will make a fresh start in life; we shall all be together—what do you say, Lola? If you agree, I'll set about the move to-day," and he confronted her eagerly.
"What do I say to, emigrating to New Zealand?" she repeated, in a queer, choked voice, "to living in a back block, and—doing the washing?" Then, in a totally different key. "Of course, I'd be happy—anywhere with you, Phil, in 'No Man's Land' or Timbuctoo—your offer is like yourself—it reminds me of the time you sold your watch to help Billy out of a hole. But this hole is too big—ten thousand would be a mere drop in the ocean. Philip," she continued, as she rose and came towards him, "it is no use trying to play hide-and-seek with fate. My fate is to redeem my father's name. You are the man I love—Mr. Waldershare is the man I shall marry. Can't you see it with my eyes? You know our home—you are one of us—don't make it harder for me. I must go my own way."
"And I am to go to the devil," he said hoarsely.
"Oh, don't talk like that," she remonstrated; "it is not like you——"