'He writes very humbly and modestly for a man of such wealth and weight in the country,' said Sir Ranald. 'Do you wish to see his letter?'
'No, papa, I have no interest in the matter,' replied Alison, faintly.
'"She has always permitted me to take the place of a friend—better than I merited," he writes, "but that has been from the innate goodness of her heart, on which I know that I have no right to found the expectations that have drawn forth this letter." Very well expressed indeed,' added Sir Ranald, eyeing the missive through his pince-nez, 'and he winds up so nicely about your beauty and the wealth he can lay at your feet, and so forth.'
'And so, papa, I am to deem my face my fortune?' said Alison, still endeavouring to make light of the matter.
'Not alone.'
'What more is there, then?'
'You are a Cheyne of Essilmont.'
'How ridiculous of this man, who is old enough to be my father! And so, papa, this is my first proposal?'
'Your first, how many do you expect—you a penniless lass?'
'With a long pedigree.'