So confident was the prince’s tone that Lord Roane, although much unnerved by its suddenness, began involuntarily to consider the proposition. The fellow was handsome and dignified and reputed to be as rich as Crœsus; but the Englishman had a natural antipathy to foreigners, especially the dark-skinned ones. The idea of giving Aneth to an Egyptian was revolting.
“Ahem! This is indeed a surprise, Prince,” he said, haltingly. “The child is hardly old enough yet to think of marriage.”
Kāra did not reply to this observation.
“Have you—ah—approached her with this proposal as yet?” inquired Roane, after a few moments’ reflection.
“I have, sir.”
“And what did she say?”
“She refused to marry me, giving as her reason the fact that she does not love me,” was the calm reply.
Roane stared at him.
“Then why the devil do you come to me?” he demanded, angrily.
“Because the girl must not be allowed to choose for herself,” said Kāra.