‘No time to think about it!’ echoed Mrs Courtney; ‘why, the case is plain enough. What thinking does it require? Sir Russell offers to make you Lady Johnstone, and the mistress of Government House. He has an income of many thousands a year, and your father will settle a handsome dowry on you if you marry him. You will be the richest woman, and the woman of highest rank, in San Diego, and every soul in the island will exclaim at your good fortune. What more, in the name of Heaven, do you want, Maraquita?’
‘I am so afraid I sha’n’t love him,’ sighed the girl, with a last remnant of womanly feeling.
‘Very well,’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney, turning her back upon her daughter, and professing to be about to leave her, ‘I will go and tell Sir Russell, and at once! He is waiting your answer, and I can’t keep a Governor on tenterhooks for hours. If you refuse him, he says he is going back to England by the next steamer, and shall never return here, as he is sick of San Diego, and will only stay on condition you become his wife. But as you won’t try to love him, it is of no use.’
‘Stay, mother, stay!’ cried Quita hurriedly; ‘don’t go just yet. Wait one moment, and speak to me. Is it really true that Sir Russell will leave San Diego if I don’t marry him?’
‘Didn’t I say so, Maraquita. He declares that nothing shall make him stay; and if he returns, it will be with a Lady Johnstone to preside over Government House for him. He will marry an English girl, and you will have the mortification of seeing some woman, with half your beauty, enjoying all the advantages you have been fool enough to refuse. Quita, I have no patience with you.’
‘But, mamma—mamma, I haven’t refused him. I don’t mean to refuse him! If (as you say) I must make up my mind at once, I have made it up! I accept Sir Russell’s proposal, and you can go and tell him so.’
‘Oh, my darling girl!’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney effusively, ‘I was sure you would see this grand prospect in its proper light at last. How proud and delighted your father will be to hear your decision. But you must give Sir Russell his answer in person, my love. You must let me bring him here, and tell him yourself that you will be his wife.’
‘But I am not fit to see any one. I am so untidy!’ cried Quita, jumping out of her hammock, and standing before her mother.
She was clothed in a long loose robe, of saffron colour, with hanging sleeves, that showed her white arms, and a belt that spanned her slender waist. Her dusky hair lay in a rippling mass upon her shoulders, and her fair face was flushed with excitement, and perhaps regret. She had never looked more lovely in her life, and Mrs Courtney regarded her with pardonable pride and admiration.
‘You are charming, my dear! I will not have you wait to make a single alteration in your dress; and Sir Russell is so impatient, that he will readily pardon the negligence of your morning attire. He knows you have been ill, and are disinclined for much exertion. Sit down in this chair, Quita, and I will bring him to you in another minute. Oh, my dear child,’ concluded Mrs Courtney, with a close embrace, ‘how thankful I am that all is about to end so happily for you! You have half killed me by your thoughtlessness and imprudence.’