"No, no; it is not a matter of business, Mr. Maxfield," said Diamond smiling, but not quite at his ease. Then he sat down and told his errand. Maxfield listened in perfect silence. "May I hope, Mr. Maxfield, that you will give us your consent and approbation?" asked Diamond, after a pause.
"You're pretty glib, sir! I must know a little more about this matter before I can give an answer one way or another."
"You shall know all that I can tell you, Mr. Maxfield. Indeed, I do not see what more I have to say. I have explained to you what my prospects in life are. I have told you every particular with the most absolute fulness and candour. As to my feeling for your daughter, I don't think I could fully express that if I talked to you all night."
"What did my daughter say to you?"
"She—she told me that she was willing to be my wife, but that it must depend upon your consent."
"Rhoda has always been a very dutiful daughter. There's not many like Rhoda."
"I appreciate her, Mr. Maxfield. You may believe that I do most heartily appreciate her. I have long known that all my happiness depended on winning Rhoda for my wife. I have loved her long. But, of course, I could not venture to ask her to marry me, or to ask you to give her to me, until I had some prospect of a home to offer her."
"Ah! And this prospect, now—you aren't sure about it?"
"No; I am not quite sure."
"And, supposing you don't get the place—how then?"