‘I presume that to be her intention,’ said Sebastian, turning to Carrie as he spoke.
‘Sir, dearest sir, I must do as you command me now,’ said Carrie. ‘But’—and here she laid her hand in Phil’s—‘some day I must go with Phil, for he hath all my heart.’
‘When you are old enough to take your own will against mine?’ asked Sebastian.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘When that day comes, you choose betwixt him and me.’
‘If so be I must make the choice,’ said Carrie, ‘I must choose Phil; I cannot, cannot forsake him.’
There fell a short silence, then Philip spoke.
‘You must admit, sir,’ he said, ‘ ’tis hard that Carrie and I should be parted by reason of your and my father’s old quarrels. But I, in my turn, must admit I did wrong to make her leave home with me as I did—for that I must ask your forgiveness, but, as I live, sir, I swear you’d have done the same at my age!’
It was scarcely possible for Phil to harp very long on the serious string; inevitably his buoyant nature resented the restraint it was under, and broke through it. Frustrated, disappointed, angry, on the eve of being parted from Carrie, he must still find something to laugh at. And Sebastian, in spite of himself, very much in spite of himself, found it impossible not to laugh also.
‘ ’Pon my soul! the boy does not lack assurance! Yes, that I would!’ he said, but added a moment later, ‘I laugh, but that doth not retract my displeasure one whit, nor alter a word of what I have said: Carrie shall never marry you an I can prevent it.’