“Well, then, have you any objection if I enter for the stakes myself?”
“You! Do you mean that you would propose for May Leslie?”
“I do; and, what's more, I don't despair of success, either.”
An angry flush rose to Heathcote's face, and for a moment it seemed as if his passion was about to break forth; but he mastered it, and, rising slowly, said: “If I thought such a thing possible, it would very soon cure me of one sorrow.” After a pause, he added: “As for me, I have no permission to give or to withhold. Go, by all means, and make your offer. I only ask one thing: it is, that you will honestly tell me afterwards how it has been received.”
“That I pledge my word to. Where do you stop in Paris?”
“At the Windsor.”
“Well, you shall have a despatch from me, or see myself there, by Saturday evening; one or the other I swear to.”
“Agreed. I'll not wish you success, for that would be hypocritical, but I 'll wish you well over it!” And with this speech, uttered in a tone of jeering sarcasm, Heathcote said good-bye, and departed.