"You heard something, sir?" Stafford asked, as calmly as he could.
Mr. Falconer was silent for a moment, then he said:
"Yes. I heard that you were desirous of marrying my daughter, Maude,
Mr. Orme; and I need not say that a man does not ruin his son-in-law!"
There was an intense silence. Stafford stood as if he were turned to stone, as if he were trying to persuade himself that he had misunderstood the meaning of Falconer's words. Marry Maude Falconer—he! Was he dreaming, or was this man, who stood regarding him with cold, glittering eyes, mad!
CHAPTER XXII.
We do not, nowadays, strike attitudes, or ejaculate and swear when we are startled or shocked; Stafford stood perfectly still, still as a piece of Stonehenge, and gazed with an expressionless countenance at Mr. Falconer. That the man was indeed and in truth mad, occurred to him for a moment; then he thought there must be some mistake, that Mr. Falconer had made a blunder in the name, and that it was a case of mistaking his man.
But as the moments fled, and the two elder men gazed at him, as if expecting him to speak, he remembered Howard's warning. The colour rushed to his face and his eyes dropped. Merciful Heaven! was the man speaking the truth when he said that he, Stafford, was in love with Maude Falconer? His face was hot and scarlet for a moment, then it grew pale under the shame of the thought that he should have to correct the impression; decline, so to speak, the implied honour.
Sir Stephen was the first to speak. He had sunk back in his chair, but was now leaning forward again, his hands gripping the table. "Stafford!" he said, still thickly, but with the beginning of a note of relief in his voice. "I did not know this—you did not tell me!"
Stafford turned to him helplessly. What could he say—before Falconer, the girl's father?
"You did not tell me. But I don't complain, my boy," said Sir Stephen." You were right to choose your own time—young people like to keep their secret to themselves as long as possible."