“The lady is of good birth, of course?”
“Yes, sir, excellent,” Adrian returned, recalling what his friend Gordon had said about Miss Mehetabel’s “family tree.” Then he added: “But misfortune of a very serious nature has deprived her during the last six or eight months of all her property, and death of her last friend.”
“That is bad, truly, my boy; but, then, you will have enough, and to spare, and I would be the last one to put anything in the way of your happiness for the lack of filthy lucre. You love the lady, of course?” and he searched the noble face that he loved so well.
“As my own life!” Adrian said, earnestly.
“Ah! you have been a sly dog to get so far as this and we never suspected it. Who is the fair inamorata?”
“You would not deem it anything out of the way, I presume, sir, if a lady of good birth should be reduced to the necessity of becoming a governess or a companion?” Adrian asked, ignoring the question, and determined to lay all the facts before his grandfather before telling his darling’s name.
“Zounds, Adrian! Has it been so bad as that in the case of your ladylove?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then the quicker you marry her, and relieve her dire necessity the better,” his lordship said, little thinking how he was committing himself.
“Thank you. Yes, sir, it came to that, as I told you some six or eight months ago.”