Judge Van Lew gave a surprised and secretly reluctant consent.
It was not a pleasant thought for the ambitious father that his charming daughter, who had refused millionaires and men of the highest rank, should descend to a simple congressman who had not won his laurels yet, and was only moderately rich.
But he knew that Desha was well-born, high-minded, and intelligent. If Viola loved him and wanted him, there was really no valid objection he could raise, so he gave his cold approval.
Then the eager lover startled Viola very much by asking her if she would set the wedding for March.
“But it is the last of January now. I should have but one month to get ready,” she cried, blushingly; but, with a little urging, she consented.
Perhaps they were mutually afraid of losing each other, Desha dreading her coquetry, she afraid he might find out the secrets she was hiding from him.
When she had given her consent, he said, seriously:
“We ought to take the public into our confidence now.”
“They do not deserve it; they have gossiped about me too much already,” Viola pouted, prettily.
He remained silent, thinking her very unreasonable, and then she smiled at his gravity, saying, coaxingly: