"Cousin Hester," he said at length, "I am about to talk to you very strangely—to conduct myself indeed in a very peculiar manner. Can you imagine a man rendering himself intensely, unpardonably disagreeable, from the very best of motives?"
It was a speech very different from any to be expected of him. That he should behave oddly seemed natural—not that he should knowingly intend to do so!
"I think I could," answered Hester, wishing neither to lead him on nor to deter him: whatever he had to say, the sooner it was said the better!
"Tell me," he said suddenly after a pause just beginning to be awkward—then paused again. "—Let me ask you first," he resumed, "whether you are able to trust me a little. I am old enough to be your father—let me say your grandfather;—fancy I am your grandfather: in my soul I believe neither could wish you well more truly than myself. Tell me—trust me and tell me: what is there between you and Mr. Vavasor?"
Hester was silent. The silence would have lasted but a moment had Hester to ask herself, not what answer she should give to his question, but what answer there was to give to it. Whether bound, whether pleased to answer it or not, might have come presently, but it did not; every question has its answer, known or unknown: what was the answer to this one? Before she knew it, the major resumed.
"I know," he said, "ladies think such things are not to be talked about with gentlemen; but there are exceptions to every rule: David ate the show-bread because there was a good reason for breaking a good rule.—Are you engaged to Mr. Vavasor?"
"No," answered Hester promptly.
"What is it then? Are you going to be?"
"If I answered that in the affirmative," said Hester, "would it not be much the same as acknowledging myself already engaged?"
"No! no!" cried the major vehemently. "So long as your word is not passed you remain free. The two are as far asunder as the pole from the equator. I thank God you are not engaged to him!"