“Father, dear, don’t speak like that of Christopher Lisle. He is a true gentleman.”
“He is a true money-seeking vagabond, and I have forbidden him my house for the best of reasons. I would sooner see you dead than the wife of a man like that.”
Claude shrank away from him, and her convulsed face hardened, with the faint resemblance to her father beginning to appear.
“You are unjust to him.”
“It is false, madam,” he cried excitedly, with his brow beginning to grow knotty. “I know the scoundrel by heart, and as you are refusing to meet me on the terms full of gentleness and love which I propose, you must be prepared for firmness. Now, please understand. It is the dearest wish of my heart that you should marry Parry Glyddyr. I like him; he is the man I wish to have for my son-in-law; and he loves you. Those are strong enough points for me, and I’ll have no opposition.”
“Father!”
“Silence! I will not hurry matters, but you may look upon this as a thing which is definitely settled. Glyddyr is coming here this morning, as I told you before. I shall tell him that we have come to an understanding, and that he may consider himself as accepted, with a long probation to go through. There, you see, I am quite calm, for I make that concession to you—plenty of time.”
“Father, dear, listen to me,” cried Claude passionately.
“No! I’ll listen to no more. You can go now and think. You will come to your senses by-and-by, I have no doubt, even if it takes time.”
Claude caught his hand in hers, but he withdrew his own with an angry gesture, and she shrank back for a moment. There was that, though, in his face which made her hesitate about saying more, and reaching up, and kissing him hurriedly, she left the room, thinking that he would calm down.