“What matter if they can live down these prejudices?” cried she, warmly; then blushing at her own eagerness, she said, falteringly, “How have I dared to speak of these things, and to you?”
Dunn arose and walked to the window, and now a long pause occurred in which neither uttered a word.
“Is this cottage yours, Miss Kellett?” said he, at last.
“No; we had rented it, and the time expires in a week or two.”
“And the furniture?”
“It was hired also, except a very few articles of little or no value.”
Dunn again turned away, and seemed lost in deep thought; then, in a voice of some uncertainty and hesitation, said: “Your father's affairs were complicated and confused,—there were questions of law, too, to be determined about them,—so that, for the present, there is no saying exactly how they stand; still, there will be a sum,—a small one, unfortunately, but still a sum available to you, which, for present convenience, you must allow me to advance to you.”
“You forget, sir, that I have a brother. To him, of right, belongs anything that remains to us.”
“I had, indeed, forgotten that,” said Dunn, in some confusion, “and it was just of him I wanted now to speak. He is serving as a soldier with a Rifle regiment in the Crimea. Can nothing be done to bring him favorably before the notice of his superiors? His gallantry has already attracted notice; but as his real station is still unknown, his advancement has been merely that accorded to the humblest merits. I will attend to it. I 'll write about him this very day.”
“How I thank you!” cried she, fervently; and she bent down and pressed her lips to his hand.