'From Lord Cadbury, is it, papa?' asked Alison, after a pause.
'Yes, and concerns you.'
'Me?'
'Intimately.'
'In what way—how?' she asked, with a heart that sank with apprehension.
'By making a formal proposal through me.'
'For what?'
'Can you ask, child? Your hand.'
'Oh, papa, nonsense?' exclaimed Alison, growing very pale nevertheless, but in the desperation of her heart resolved to treat the matter with a certain degree of levity, as if too ridiculous for consideration.
The truth was that, with all the confidence given him by his wealth and position, and all the coolness acquired by many past but coarse intrigues, he had not the courage to propose personally to a girl like Alison Cheyne, but did so thus, through her father, whose selfishness and impecuniosity made him, as he was well aware, an ally.