Then my heart leapt, I knew not how high or how tumultuously; for I doubted not now but he had received the tidings I hoped for.
"Constance," he said, "hast a mind to marry?"
"If it should please you, sir," I answered; "for my father charged me to obey you."
"Good," quoth he. "I see thou art an obedient wench. And thou wilt marry who I please?"
"Nay, sir; I said not that."
"Oh, oh!" quoth he. "Thou wilt marry so as to please me, and yet—"
"Not so as to displease myself, sir," I answered.
"Come," he said, "another question. Here is a gentleman of fortune and birth, and excellent good character, somewhat advanced in years indeed, but the more like to make an indulgent husband, and to be prudent in the management of his affairs, hath heard so good a report from two young gentlemen, his sons, of thy abilities and proper behavior, that he is minded to make thee a tender of marriage, with so good a settlement on his estate in Suffolk as must needs content any reasonable woman. Wilt have him, Conny?"
"Who, sir?" I asked, waxing, I ween, as red as a field-poppy.
"Mr. Rookwood, wench—Basil and Hubert's father."