"No, no, papa; I have been cold, reserved, silent."
"A little silent, my dear," the Rector answered meekly; "but you have not been happy. I have watched you, my love, and I know you have not been happy. But that is not strange. This place is so dull, and your life has been so fatiguing. How different that would all be at Marchmont Towers!"
"You wish me to many Mr. Marchmont, then, papa?"
"I do, indeed, my love. For your own sake, of course," the Rector added deprecatingly.
"You really wish it?"
"Very, very much, my dear."
"Then I will marry him, papa."
She took her hand from the Rector's shoulder, and walked away from him to the uncurtained window, against which she stood with her back to her father, looking out into the grey obscurity.
I have said that Hubert Arundel was not a very clever or far-seeing person; but he vaguely felt that this was not exactly the way in which a brilliant offer of marriage should be accepted by a young lady who was entirely fancy-free, and he had an uncomfortable apprehension that there was something hidden under his daughter's quiet manner.
"But, my dear Olivia," he said nervously, "you must not for a moment suppose that I would force you into this marriage, if it is in any way repugnant to yourself. You—you may have formed some prior attachment—or, there may be somebody who loves you, and has loved you longer than Mr. Marchmont, who—"