“Oh, I understand! I understand!
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‘Among the rest young Edwin bowed, But never told his love. Wisdom, and worth were all he had.’“ |
“Yes, dear father, that is just the truth. You wish me to marry; but, dear, dear father, I can never bring myself to marry any one but him; and he loves me truly, but does not seek me?” she breathed in a low and tremulous tone, half smothered also by the hands with which she covered her blushing face.
“Now what am I to do in this case? I have nothing against the young man whatever, except his poverty and big long line of poor relations, that will be sure to be a burden to him!” grumbled old Bertram to himself.
“But, father, we are so rich! We have enough for so many people,” pleaded Sybil.
“Not enough to enrich all the Howes, my dear! But I like the young man, I really do like him, and if he had more money, and less relations, I should prefer him to any young man in the neighborhood for a son-in-law.”
“O father, dear father, thank you, thank you for saying that,” exclaimed Sybil, fervently kissing his hands.
“And now that you have told me your mind, what do you want me to do, my darling?” he inquired, returning her caresses.
“Oh, dear father! an old man like you must know! I do want you to give Lyon help and encouragement as you know best how to do it, without wounding his pride. You sympathize with his political principles; let him know that you do. You admire his character; let him feel that you do.”
“What else?”