“He does—I tell you so, girl. He’s over head and ears in love with you. I know it. In fact, I saw it from the first minute. A blind man might have perceived it; but then a blind man can see better than a young lady that’s in love. Ha! ha! ha!”
Loftus Vaughan laughed long and loudly at the jest he had so unexpectedly perpetrated: for at that moment he was in the very mood for merriment. His dearest dream was about to be realised. Montagu Smythje was in love with his daughter. That he knew before. Now his daughter had more than half admitted—in fact, quite confessed—that she liked Smythje; and what was liking but love?
“Yes, Kate,” said he, as soon as his exultation had to some extent subsided, “you are blind, you little silly—else you might have seen it before. His behaviour would show how much he cares for you.”
“Ah! father, I think that his behaviour would rather show that he cares not for either of us. He is too proud to care for any one.”
“What! too proud? Nonsense! it’s only his way. Surely he has not shown anything of that to you, Kate?”
“I cannot blame him,” continued the young girl, still speaking in a serious tone. “The fault was not his. Your treatment of him, father—you must not be angry at me for telling you of it—now that I know all, dear papa—was it not enough to make him act as he has done?”
“My treatment of him!” cried the Custos, with a self-justifying, but puzzled look. “Why, child, you rave! I could not treat him better, if I was to try ever so. I have done everything to entertain him, and make him feel at home here. As to what he has done, it’s all nonsense about his pride: at least, with us he has shown nothing of the kind. On the contrary, he is acting admirably throughout the whole matter. Certainly, no man could behave with more politeness to you than Mr Smythje is doing?”
“Mr Smythje!”
The entrance of this gentleman at the moment prevented Mr Vaughan from noticing the effect which the mention of his name had produced: an unexpected effect, as might have been seen by the expression which Kate’s features had suddenly assumed.
But for that interruption—hindering the éclaircissement which, no doubt, his daughter would on the instant have made—Mr Vaughan might have sat down to breakfast with his appetite considerably impaired.