"I wish it was over, Sir John. I could wish to see Miss Julia now, and hear my fate at once. A man gets very awkward and nervous in this situation, I declare!" and Tom Pynsent's red face became ashy pale.
Lady Wetheral undertook to make his burthen an easy one. She even ventured to answer for Julia's affection—this was going too far. Julia had never confided her feelings to her mother upon any subject, and Lady Wetheral's anxiety to secure Tom Pynsent led her into the commission of much injustice. She had sacrificed Anna Maria's peace by thoughtless manœuvring, and now she was creating false hopes in the heart of Tom Pynsent. His situation at this moment was pitiable, and Sir John at once decided upon the necessity of an immediate conference with Julia. Poor Julia obeyed the summons conveyed through Thompson, and appeared in the study brilliant in smiles, and glowing with her recent exercise. She was not surprised at seeing Tom Pynsent, though she did not expect him so early. Julia was never off her guard. No girl in existence possessed her perfect command of feelings, and her self-possessed manner which never deserted her under any circumstance. She was quite prepared for a scene with Tom Pynsent and her mother.
"My dear Julia," said her father, taking her hand, and seating her between Tom Pynsent and himself, "Mr. Pynsent has been here some little time, and he has been speaking on a subject which you alone can dispose of."
"Oh, papa, I will dispose of it in one word," replied Julia, in her gayest manner. "What is it about?"
Tom Pynsent took up the matter as appertaining to himself, exclusively.
"Miss Julia, I have spoken to Sir John upon the subject of last night."
"Well, Mr. Pynsent."
"And, Sir John gives his consent, Miss Julia, if——."
"But I do not give mine, Mr. Pynsent."
Lady Wetheral sat rooted upon her chair; the fountain of her speech was dried up. Tom Pynsent coloured.