He spoke slowly, rising from his chair, but endeavoring to restrain the emotion which he felt.
“It is not unlike Mary to treat the matter as if it were finally settled, and so not worthy of another thought,” said Mrs. Horneck.
“Finally settled?” repeated Goldsmith. “Then she has accepted Colonel Gwyn's proposal?”
“On the contrary, sir, she rejected it,” said the mother.
He resumed his seat. Was the emotion which he experienced at that moment one of gladness?
“Yes, she rejected a suitor whom we all considered most eligible,” said the lady. “Colonel Gwyn is a man of good family, and his own character is irreproachable. He is in every respect a most admirable man, and I am convinced that my dear child's happiness would be assured with him—and yet she sends him away from her.”
“That is possibly because she knows her own mind—her own heart, I should rather say; and that heart the purest in the world.”
“Alas! she is but a girl.”
“Nay, to my mind, she is something more than a girl. No man that lives is worthy of her.”
“That may be true, dear friend; but no girl would thank you to act too rigidly on that assumption—an assumption which would condemn her to live and die an old maid. Now, my dear Dr. Goldsmith, I want you to take a practical and not a poetical view of a matter which so closely concerns the future of one who is dear to me, and in whom I am sure you take a great interest.”