“Well said, my lass, and bravely. How far hath it gone, Blanche?”
Blanche’s chain came into requisition again. She was silent.
“Hath he spoken plainly of wedding thee?”
“I think so,” said Blanche faintly.
“Didst give him any encouragement thereto?” was the next question—gravely, but not angrily asked.
If Blanche had spoken the simple truth, she would have said “Plenty.” But she dared not. She looked intently at the floor, and murmured something about “perhaps” and “a little.”
Her father sighed. Her mother appeared engrossed with the play.
“And yet once tell me, Blanche—hath he at all endeavoured himself to persuade thee to accordance with his religion? Hath he given thee any gifts, such as a cross, or a relic-case, or the like?”
Blanche would have given a good deal to run away. But there was no chance of it. She must stand her ground; and not only that, but she must reply to this exceedingly awkward question.
Don Juan had given her one or two little things, she faltered, leaving the more important points untouched. Was her father annoyed at her accepting them? She had no intention of vexing him.