“Indeed, I must own myself agreeably surprised in him,” acknowledged Mr. Thorne. “I do not perfectly understand why he should be taking Brean’s place—in fact, I do not understand it at all! There is something in such eccentric behaviour which one cannot quite like, but I must suppose him to have good and sufficient reason for indulging in what bears the appearance of a mere prank, for there is nothing wild or unstable in his face or in his bearing. But if Miss Stornaway is, I repeat, reluctant, I must decline to perform my office!”
“She ain’t,” said the Squire. “Mere female scruples! She’s head over ears in love with the fellow! Winkfield, my cordial!”
In the dressing-room, Nell was folded in the fellow’s arms, saying agitatedly: “John, I cannot, I cannot!”
“Then you shall not,” he replied comfortingly. “But tell me why you cannot!”
“There are so many reasons—you must perceive! Oh, I couldn’t do it!”
“It’s too sudden? Of course, you have had no time to prepare for it! What a selfish fellow I am! The thing is that I should like a private wedding so much myself that I forgot that you would wish for something in quite a different style. All girls do, I collect, and God forbid I should deny you anything you want, my treasure!”
This had the effect of making her lift her head from his shoulder. “No, no! Oh, how can you think me so stupid?” she demanded indignantly. “As though I care for bride-clothes, or any flummery! Oh, John, how infamous you are!
He laughed. “But what else am I to think, unless that you mean to cry off?”
She tried to shake him, gripping the lapels of his coat.
“You know I don’t! Cannot you perceive how wrong it would be in me to marry you like this?”