Dora’s pride was wakened, and she now spoke in a high tone: she always, even in the midst of her weaknesses, had an ambition to show spirit.
“I will put the test to him myself, within this hour,” said Corny; “and before you go to bed this night, when the clock strikes twelve, all three of you be on this spot, and I will give you his answer. But stay, Harry Ormond, we have not had your opinion—would you advise me to make this trial?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“But if I should lose half of Dora’s fortune?”
“You would think it well bestowed, I am sure, sir, in securing her from an unhappy marriage.”
“But then she might not, perhaps, so easily find another lover with half a fortune—that might make a difference, hey, Harry?”
“Impossible, I should think, sir, that it could make the least difference in the affection of any one who really—who was really worthy of Miss O’Shane.”
The agitation into which Harry Ormond was thrown, flattered and touched Dora for the moment; her aunt hurried her out of the room.
Cornelius O’Shane rang, and inquired where Mr. Connal was? In his own apartment, writing letters, his servant believed. O’Shane sent to beg to see him, as soon as he was at leisure.
At twelve o’clock Dora, Mademoiselle, and Ormond, were all in the study, punctually as the clock was striking.