"Alas! how her gentleness of nature must have been perverted! Well, well, Maria, in spite of myself, I cannot resolve to humble your pride, or thwart your schemes. I believe you love me and your daughter. Yet you are playing a desperate game—remember, our all is staked upon the issue."
"And I'll await the hazard of the die," replied Mrs. B., as she kissed her husband fondly, and dismissed him with a wave of the hand.
When Brandon came down into the hall, he was thunder-struck at meeting there three persons, whose appearance, after what had just passed up stairs in the boudoir, might well be considered inopportune. The first was uncle Richard Watkins, a relative of Mr. Brandon's, who resided in the country, and had become immensely rich by land speculations, and the others were Mr. Merton and his son. A pile of baggage announced that they were not mere callers.
"Give us your hand, Luke," said uncle Richard, extending his enormous brown palm, "you ain't glad to see me, nor nothin', be you? Brought my trunk, valise, carpet bag, and hatbox, and cal'late to spend six weeks here. How's the old woman and the gal—pretty smart? Well, that's hearty."
The broker shook the old man by the hand, and then turned to welcome with the best grace he could his friend Merton, and his proposed son-in-law.
"You know what we've come for," said the elder Merton, with a sly wink.
"Pray walk into the drawing room," said the broker, and 'on hospitable thoughts intent,' he threw wide the door, and the party entered.
Ah! unlucky Brandon! why didst thou not summon the French page to announce thy guests? Thou hadst then been spared a scene that might have figured in a comedy, and came near furnishing material for a tragedy.
An elegant young man was kneeling at the feet of an elegant young lady. The former was Count Alfred de Roseville, the latter Miss Julia Brandon. The count started to his feet, the young lady blushed and shrieked. The count was the first to recover his voice and self-possession. Rushing to the broker, he exclaimed in broken English,—
"O, my dear monsieur, how I moost glad to see you—your daughter—Mees Julie—she 'ave say—yais—yais—yais—to my ardent love suit—and now I have the honneur to salute her respectable papa."