"You expressed your approbation of my house, Miss Coventry," the Squire proceeded, with his hand on my horse's neck; "do you think—I mean—should you consider—or rather I should say, is there any alteration you would suggest—anything in my power—if you would condescend to ride over any afternoon; may I consider you will so far favour me?"
I said "I should be delighted, but that it had left off raining, and it was time for us to get home."
"One word, Miss Coventry," pleaded the Squire with a shaking voice.
"Have I your permission to call upon Lady Horsingham to-morrow?"
I said I thought my aunt would be at home, and expressed my conviction that she would be delighted to see him, and I wished him good-bye.
"Good-bye, Miss Coventry, good-bye," said the Squire, shaking hands with a squeeze that crushed my favourite ring into my prettiest finger; "you have made me the happiest of men—good-bye!"
I saw it all in an instant, just as I see it now. The Squire means to propose for me to-morrow, and he thinks I have accepted him. What shall I do? Mrs. Haycock—Kate Haycock—Catherine Haycock. No, I can't make it look well, write it how I will; and then, to vow never to think of any one else; I suppose I mightn't even speak to Frank. Never, no, never; but what a scrape I have got into, and how I wish to-morrow was over!
CHAPTER XIII.
My diary continued,—
Saturday.—Well, it is over at last; and upon my word I begin to think I am capable of anything after all I have got through to-day since breakfast. Scarcely had I finished the slice of toast and single cup of tea that constitute my morning meal, before I heard the tramp of a horse on the gravel in front of the house, followed by the ominous sound of the door-bell. I have remarked that in all country families a ring at the door-bell brings everybody's heart into everybody's mouth. Aunt Horsingham, brooding over the teapot as usual, had been in her worst of humours ever since she came down, and tried to look as if no bell that ever was cast had power to move her grim resolve.
"A message by electric telegraph," exclaimed Cousin Amelia, who is always anticipating some catastrophe; "no visitor would ever call at such a time."