She was interrupted by the arrival of Count Ville-Handry. He kissed his daughter, said a few words about rain and fine weather; and then, drawing Daniel into one of the windows, he asked—
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
“Miss Henrietta wants a few days to consider.”
The count looked displeased, and said,—
“That is absurd. Nothing can be more ridiculous. But, after all, it is your business, my dear Daniel. And, if you want any additional motive, I will tell you that my daughter is very rich. She has a quarter of a million of her own.”
“Sir!” exclaimed Daniel indignantly.
But Count Ville-Handry had already turned upon his heels; and the butler came to announce that dinner was on the table.
The meal, though excellent in itself, was necessarily very dull and sad. It was promptly despatched; for the count seemed to be sitting on needles, and every minute looked at his watch.