‘I need not tell you why I am come, sir,’ pursued Phil, who wasted no time upon preliminaries.
‘I have given Carrie her choice betwixt you and me; ’tis for her to speak,’ said Sebastian for answer.
Carrie had been standing behind her father during this conversation; she came now and sat on the arm of his chair, bent down, and whispered a few words in his ear. He rose, and taking her hand in his held it for a moment and then laid it in Phil’s.
‘She belongs to you now, Philip Meadowes,’ he said.
‘Oh, dada dear, love him too!’ pleaded Carrie, and the tears gathered in her blue eyes at the cold sound of her father’s voice.
‘You ask the impossible, Carrie,’ said he.
‘Perhaps, sir, time may soften the prejudice you entertain for me,’ said Phil. ‘Indeed I shall do my utmost to make Carrie a good husband.’
‘Do not misunderstand me, Meadowes,’ said Sebastian. ‘The feeling I have against you is quite impersonal, else I had not given you Carrie’s hand in marriage. I think you will make her happy; but for all that I cannot be your friend, I cannot bear to look upon your face!’ He rose at the last words and left the room, and Carrie and Phil looked at each in perplexity.
‘Ah, Phil, ’tis terrible,’ said Carrie, ‘and I so happy! my dearest father——’
Phil refused to look upon the tragic side of the case, however. He was far too pleased to think anything very far wrong.