Henri de Courcelles shifted his feet, and looked uncertain.
‘I am not sure, sir; you see, you are precipitating them. Miss Fellows would be as astonished as I am, if she could overhear our present conversation. We have never spoken of marriage as a necessary contingency to our friendship.’
‘Then you don’t love the girl, and you don’t intend to marry her?’
‘I don’t say that, Mr Courtney. It is impossible to say what we may decide upon in the future; but for the present, I positively deny that we have any fixed plans whatever.’
Mr Courtney looked dissatisfied for a moment, then, with the air of a man who has made up his mind to do a disagreeable thing, he proceeded,—
‘Well! no one can settle these matters satisfactorily, but the parties concerned, and so I have no more to say about it. But there is another subject uppermost in my mind, which I feel I must mention to you. It is a delicate one, which I would much rather avoid, but I cannot shirk my duty. I have been unable to help observing, De Courcelles, that you admire my daughter Maraquita. I can hardly suppose you entertain any hopes from that quarter, but if you do, you must dismiss them at once, and for ever, for I have quite different views for Miss Courtney.’
The handsome young overseer had flushed dark crimson during his employer’s speech, but he did not immediately reply to it.
‘I hope I may be mistaken,’ continued Mr Courtney, ‘and I hope I have not offended you by mentioning it, but I have meant to do so for some time past. Maraquita is a lovely girl. I cannot help seeing that, though I am her father, and doubtless you appreciate her beauty, in common with many other men; but it can never go any further.’
‘I have never presumed to think it could,’ replied De Courcelles, with dry lips, and a husky voice.
‘It is not you to whom I have an objection,’ said the planter, ‘it is to any man who cannot give Maraquita wealth and position. She is my only child, and I have great ambition for her; and I have already received a flattering proposal for her hand, from one of the highest men in the island. Had it not been for this unfortunate illness, I should have submitted his letter to my daughter by this time. But I have little doubt how she will receive it. Meanwhile, I think it but kind and just to let you know of my intentions, and to warn you, should there be any need of caution, to be careful.’