“Oh, no, sir,” he cried; and, excited now by his position, he somewhat blunderingly, but with manly frankness, told how long he had loved Isabel, and asked for a sanction to his engagement.
Mr Elthorne heard him in silence to the end, and then said briefly: “Impossible.”
“Impossible, sir?”
“Quite, my lad. It is all a boy and a girl piece of nonsense. Yes; you two have known each other from children, been playfellows and the like, but I could never sanction my child’s marriage to one who leads such a life as yours.”
“But, Mr Elthorne—”
“Hear me out, my lad. I tell you frankly, I like you and always did as a boy and the friend of my sons, but as my prospective son-in-law, once for all, it is impossible.”
“Mr Elthorne!” cried the young man appealingly.
“No, my lad, no; so give up all thought of it at once. Isabel will leave home one of these days, but not with you. You are not the man. Do you ride with us this morning?”
Beck did not answer for the moment, for he was half stunned, but an angry flush came into his cheeks just then, for Sir Cheltnam’s voice was heard through the open window. There was the cause of his rejection, he felt sure, and, full of resentment and the feeling that Mr Elthorne had not treated him well, he replied sharply:
“Yes, sir, I shall go with the party this morning, and if I tell you that I cannot give up my hopes—”