Now that the ice was broken our hero took courage, and made quite a speech, for him; telling Bell that he had liked his daughter when she was a little girl in the Forest, that he had never forgotten her during his long years of wild life in the north, and that now that he had met her again as a grown-up woman he loved her.
“Men say in books that I have read, squire,” continued our forester, “‘I am not worthy of her.’ And I say truly that I am not, neither by birth, manners, nor education.”
“Has my daughter given you any encouragement?”
“No,” replied Mat; “but I do not think that Miss Annie dislikes me.”
The squire mused.
“I will talk to Mrs. Bell about it,” he at length said. “I will give no opinion now; but this must not prevent your helping me in the station-books, so sit down.”
But when the squire afterwards sought his wife and made her acquainted with Mat’s feelings, she expressed herself as being highly indignant at the very idea.
“Look,” she said, “at the grand chances all through this season that Annie will have of making a really good match. You know how she has been admired at every ball, party, and picnic that she has been to. Why, quite lately there’s that young Lord Roulette, who ’asn’t been out long in the colonies; he seeks out Annie at every reception she goes to; and I know he’ll be a millionaire. Then there’s the Governor’s nephew. See how well she might do with any of these eligible ‘parrties.’”
Mrs. Bell took care to keep inside the English language whilst pronouncing this word, but she could not forbear a slight roll with her tongue on the r’s.
“On the other hand, my dear, though Stanley is a fine fellow, and has saved Annie’s life, we must think of her future. Fancy being introduced to Mat’s people; to their tents and caravans. When you mixed with those people—”