And he looked from one to the other.
“Well,” said Vanleigh, hesitating, and glancing at Sir Felix, “it depends somewhat on—Would you like to speak out, Landells?”
“’Sure you, no. Do it so much better. Pray go on.”
And the young man turned crimson.
“Not pre-engaged, I hope?” said Sir Hampton.
“Well, Sir Hampton,” said Vanleigh, modestly, after a pause, during which he sat with his eyes on the carpet, “this is all so new to me, and you have confused me so with your kind invitation, that my business—our business—comes doubly hard to us to state.”
“Er-rum—pray go on,” said Sir Hampton, smiling condescendingly, for all this was sweet to his soul; two scions of aristocratic houses with sense enough to respect his position in life. Captain Vanleigh might have borrowed a hundred pounds on the instant had he liked; but he was playing for higher stakes.
“Then, if you won’t speak, Landells, I must,” said Vanleigh, who seemed overcome with confusion. “No doubt there is a proper etiquette to be observed in such cases, but I confess I am too agitated to recall it, and I merely appeal to you, Sir Hampton, as a gentleman and a parent.”
Sir Hampton bowed, and uttered a cough that seemed wrapped up in cotton wool, it was so soft.
“The fact is, Sir Hampton, we have been here now three weeks—Landells and I—and we have been so charmed, so taken with your sweet daughters, that, in this hurried, confused way—I tell you, in short, we thought it right, as gentlemen, to come first and tell you, to ask you for your permission to visit more frequently, to be more in their society—to, in short, make formal proposals for their hands.”