“And you treat me as if I were a scoundrel.”
“I am compelled to look upon your claim, sir, with suspicion.”
“Well, sir, you are a lawyer; perhaps you will let me retain your services on my behalf.”
“Certainly not, sir. You are attacking, I am for the defence.”
“Very well then, sir, I must get another advocate, I suppose, and oust you from your position.”
He paused for a few moments, and looked fixedly at Gertrude, and his gaze intensified, not in boldness, but in respectful ardour, as he slowly rose, and, with a sigh of satisfaction, held out his hand to her.
“Gertrude Bellwood,” he said, “I am a rough man; I have lived a wild pioneering life where, for the most part, I have rarely seen woman, but I inherited from my sweet, dear mother’s teaching a feeling of veneration for her, as one whom it is our duty to look upon with chivalrous respect. Frankly, I came here to-night, ready to claim the property my grandfather has bequeathed me, and to set the lady he wished me to wed quite free to follow her own bent. I feel it is my duty to do this, but I shall wait a while; meantime, I venture to think that you do not look upon me as an impostor. I am George Harrington, and though I now offer you my hand, it is only for the first friendly clasp. You will shake hands with me?”
Gertrude’s eyes were fixed on his, and held there as if fascinated. She did not speak, but looked at him wildly. But at last slowly, and in the midst of an utter silence, she said faintly:
“I don’t know what to think—you do not know. Mr Hampton, why do you not explain?”
Then gathering strength and firmness, she raised her hand and placed it in the firm, strong palm which closed upon it with a pressure that was painful, though it sent a thrill of pleasure through her, such as she had never felt before.