‘No, no, mother, pray go on. What was it you were going to say? I want to hear all your news. It seems as if I had been shut up so long. Tell me everything you can think of about Sir Russell, and—and—our other friends. It will do me good to listen.’
‘Sir Russell will have a great deal to say to you himself by-and-by I expect, Maraquita,’ continued her mother, ‘and he will want us to take you up to see Government House. It is such a beautiful place. You have not seen half of it at the balls. And the furniture is something superb. It will be a happy woman who is fortunate enough to be chosen to reign over it.’
‘Is Sir Russell going to marry, then, mamma?’
‘He wishes to do so, Quita.’
‘And is the lady in San Diego?’
‘He has told your father so, my dear.’
‘Quita,’ exclaimed Mr Courtney, as the girl turned her lustrous eyes upon him, ‘cannot you guess the truth? Sir Russell Johnstone is almost as eager for your recovery as we are. He has proposed to me for your hand, and he is impatient to have your answer.’
‘Sir Russell Johnstone, the Governor of San Diego, wants to marry me!’ said Maraquita, in a dazed voice.
‘Yes, my dear. It is a great honour, but I will not have you biassed,’ returned her father. ‘You shall do exactly as you like about it.’
‘Sir Russell?’ repeated Quita, in the same dreamy tone. ‘But he is so old, and so ugly.’