'Well, well,' said Captain Montreville, a little impatiently, 'since the Colonel is gone without talking to me, I must just hear from you what it is you have both determined on.'
Laura trembled in every limb. 'I knew,' said she, without venturing to lift her eye, 'that you would never sacrifice your child to rank or fortune; and therefore I had no hesitation in refusing Colonel Hargrave.'
Captain Montreville started back with astonishment,—'Refuse Colonel Hargrave?' cried he,—'Impossible—you cannot be in earnest.'
Laura, with much truth, assured him that she never in her life had been more serious.
Captain Montreville was thunderstruck. Surprise for a few moments kept him silent. At last recovering himself,—'Why, Laura,' said he, 'what objection could you possibly make to Hargrave?—he is young, handsome, accomplished, and has shewn such generosity in his choice of you'—
'Generosity! Sir,' repeated Laura.
'Yes; it was generous in Colonel Hargrave, who might pretend to the first woman in the kingdom, to think of offering to share his fortune and his rank with you, who have neither.'
Laura's sentiments on this subject did not exactly coincide with her father's, but she remained silent while he continued: 'I think I have a right to hear your objections, for I am entirely at a loss to guess them. I don't indeed know a fault Hargrave has, except perhaps a few gallantries; which most girls of your age think a very pardonable error.'
A sickness, as of death, seized Laura; but she answered steadily, 'Indeed, Sir, the Colonel's views are so different from mine—his dispositions so very unlike—so opposite, that nothing but unhappiness could possibly result from such an union. But,' added she, forcing a languid smile, 'we shall, if you please, discuss all this to-morrow; for, indeed, today, I am unable to defend my own case with you. I have been indisposed all day.'
Captain Montreville looked at Laura, and, in the alarm which her unusual paleness excited, lost all sense of the disappointment she had just caused him. He threw his arm tenderly round her—supported her to her own apartment—begged she would try to rest,—ran to seek a cordial for his darling; and then, fearing that the dread of his displeasure should add to her disorder, hastened back to assure her that, though her happiness was his dearest concern, he never meant to interfere with her judgment of the means by which it was to be promoted.