“His father was a Major-General,” said his informant, “who lost his savings by speculation, and was unable to maintain his son in a crack cavalry corps, so the youngster resigned and went to America to try to better himself. There was a daughter, too, by the first wife, a very charming woman, who, when the crash came, was supposed to have gone on the stage. But I have never heard of her since.”
So far, the credentials were not bad; but Sir William thought it his duty to ascertain definite particulars.
Mensmore was quite candid with him.
“I have been somewhat of a rolling stone,” he said, “but I am glad to believe that people have never had cause to think ill of me. At times, my affairs have been at a desperate stage, but I hope such periods have passed forever. I have already spoken to you about the Springbok Mine—”
The old gentleman nodded.
“Well, this morning I have received very satisfactory news from America,” and he handed over Corbett’s letter for perusal.
“Yes,” agreed Sir William, “these things promise well. We will look into them when we reach England. Meanwhile, I give my provisional sanction to my daughter’s engagement. She is a good girl, Mensmore. She will be a true and excellent wife. I think you are worthy of her, and I hope that whatever clouds may have darkened your life will now pass away. You two ought to be happy.”
“We will, sir,” said Mensmore fervently.
“By the way, where is your sister? Is she in England or abroad?”