“I have tried to conceal them. It is too soon, and I would not upon any account embarrass you. But when the period of your strict mourning is over it is my very ardent desire to be permitted to pay my addresses to you.”
She could only say: “It is absurd! I am persuaded this is one of your whimsical turns, my lord!”
“My whimsical turns! No, indeed! I was never more serious in my life. You are the only woman I could think of asking to be my wife. You must be aware, at least, that I have found no common delight in your company.”
“No! No, no, I had not the least notion—Oh, pray do not, my lord! This is some chivalrous conceit! You cannot mean it!”
He sounded amused. “My dear child, when have you ever known me indulge in such romantic folly as a chivalrous conceit? Indeed, my fear is that my overbearing, self-willed ways may have given you a distaste of me which not all my future efforts may serve to eradicate. Is it so?”
“No,” said Elinor. “Oh, no! But—”
He found her hand and raised it to his lips. “Well, I have used you quite abominably, but I will not do so any more. I mean to take the greatest care of you, if you will let me.”
She was obliged to hunt hurriedly in her reticule for her handkerchief. Trying to speak in a collected way, she said, “It will not do! You are so very obliging, my lord, but do, pray, consider!”
“I have already considered, and it is absurd to say that I am obliging.”
“Oh, stop, stop! It is madness! Only think of your sisters. What would they say? You to marry one who is nothing but a penniless governess!”