"I'm eighteen," came a piteous voice from the vicinity of my waistcoat. "Lots of girls are engaged before they're eighteen."
This was unanswerable. I tried another line.
"And you want to leave me, then, Marian, already?" I said, with a plaintiveness that was not all affected.
The arms that were round my neck tightened their grasp, and a tear-stained, dishevelled face was lifted piteously to mine.
"I don't, Hugh! You know I don't. We only want to be engaged. We don't want to be married."
"Well, I suppose it's all right," I said, with a sigh. "Look here, Marian, you run along in to Mr. Holdern, and leave me to think about it while I finish my dinner."
She unclasped her arms and looked at me radiantly.
"Dear old Hugh! I knew you'd say yes."
"But I haven't said anything of the sort," I protested, severely. "Don't you run away with that idea, young lady. I shall have to hear what Mr. Holdern's got to say for himself first," I added, frowning, and assuming an air of paternal authority. But she saw through it, and with a final kiss ran away laughing.
Being a somewhat matter-of-fact young man, and keenly conscious of an as yet unsatisfied hunger, I finished my dinner before I commenced to think seriously over this unexpected incident. Then I leaned back in my chair and considered it, and in a very few minutes I had come to the conclusion that it was about the most fortunate thing that could have happened. I had never intended my stay here to be a permanent one, and whilst there were now no reasons why I should remain, there were several strong ones why I should go. First, I could attain no nearer now, by stopping, to the great object of my life; on the other hand, every day I stayed here and remained under the fascination of Maud Devereux's presence I stood in greater risk of forgetting my oath. Then whilst here I had no opportunity of meeting Rupert Devereux, my uncle, the man from, whom, if it came at all, must come my father's justification. My father!