And, as she spoke, she embraced with almost infantine tenderness the parent who affectionately returned her caresses.
“Nothing unpleasant, my dear child,” was the reply; and then the young maiden’s father cast an enquiring glance towards Mrs. Mortimer.
“This lady,” said Agnes, “is the widow of a General who recently died in India; and, having herself occupied the cottage many years ago, she felt anxious, on her return to England, to visit the place which had so many pleasing and some melancholy associations for her.”
“The lady is most welcome,” observed the gentleman; “and her name——”
“Is Mrs. Mortimer,” added Agnes: then, with ingenuous affability, she said, turning to the old woman, “Madam, permit me to introduce my beloved father, Mr. Vernon.”
But Mr. Vernon bowed coldly, and even eyed the visitor suspiciously, as he observed, “I was not aware that any General-officer bearing the name of Mortimer had recently died in India.”
“My deceased husband,” said the old woman, with admirable presence of mind, “was not in the English service. He was in that of the Honourable East India Company.”
“I was not aware,” repeated Mr. Vernon, still in the same chilling tone, “that there were General-officers in the service of the East India Company. Madam,” he continued, now fixing his gaze sternly upon her, “wherefore have you come hither?—on what pretence have you intruded yourself upon the sacred privacy of my daughter?”
“The motive was the one which Miss Vernon has explained to you, sir,” replied Mrs. Mortimer, whose self-possession had been for a few moments considerably disturbed by the confident manner in which the young lady’s father had exposed her second falsehood.
“Then, if that motive were really the true one, madam,” he said, his sternness again changing to freezing politeness, “your object is probably gained by this time; and, as it is now ten o’clock, you will perhaps have the kindness to leave me with my daughter.”