Adrian colored, but, coming to the point at once said:
“Sir, I desire your permission to marry.”
“Bless my soul, my boy! What’s this?” and he sat up and stared at his grandson for a moment, as if he had never thought of such a thing before in connection with him.
“Well, well,” he added the next; “you took me rather by surprise; that’s a fact; but, after all, you couldn’t please me better. Aha! that accounts for your hurry to get back to London, doesn’t it?”
“Yes—no,” replied Adrian, somewhat confused, and yet half-laughing at his grandfather’s comical surprise and ready acquiescence to his request.
“Yes—no,” repeated his lordship, with a merry twinkle in his eye; “that is rather a doubtful reply. But, seriously, Adrian, my boy, nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to see you settled in life; and I have no doubt but that the lady of your choice is in every way desirable.”
“She is, sir, a perfect lady, highly educated and accomplished, and there never was, in my opinion, a more beautiful Countess of Dunforth than she will make,” returned the ardent lover, who felt that everything was progressing finely.
“Yes, yes; that is always so with lovers. I remember——”
What he remembered he did not say, but his face grew wan and sad, as he suddenly checked himself.
Then he resumed, more gravely: