“No—yes—no; net shock—surprise me greatly.” There was a pause, and the fingers trembled as they were now and again raised, then grew steady as they were laid down. “But tell me,” it continued, trembling and becoming less cold, “does Gertrude return your love?”
“Oh yes, Heaven bless her, yes!” cried the young man fervently; and there was another silence, such as might have ensued had the owner of the voice been trying to master some emotion.
“What more, then, do you want?” said the voice, now greatly changed. “You, an honourable young man, in love with a girl who is all sweetness and purity. It is strange; but it is the will of God. Marry her, and may He bless the union!”
“Captain Millet, you make me very, very happy,” cried the young man; and before the hand could be removed it was seized and pressed in his strong grasp.
It was withdrawn directly, and a fresh silence ensued, when the voice said softly:
“And my brother, does he approve?”
“Oh yes; I think so,” replied Huish; “but—”
“The mother objects—of course. She has made her choice. Who is it?”
“Lord Henry Moorpark.”
“A man nearly three times her age. It would be a crime. You will not permit such an outrage against her youth. Moorpark must be mad.”