“Yes, sir; I think I can safely promise that in six months from this time I shall be able to convince you that I am as honorable and respectable a man as you yourself claim to be, and shall be able to offer Miss Dalton a position in life that even you will be proud to accept for her.”
Mr. Dalton now started as if stung at these last words, and his face would have been a study for a painter.
He had grown very pale while Earle was speaking, and his countenance wore a half-frightened, perplexed expression, while his eyes were fixed upon the young man as if fascinated.
“How can you do this thing? What do you mean?” he at last demanded, in a wondering tone.
“Pardon me if I say I cannot explain just now,” he answered, with a slight smile, and a quick, fond glance at Editha, as if she would be the first one to be told of any good that came to him; “but, providing that I can thus convince you of my honesty and respectability, will you then consent to my union with Editha?”
“No!” burst from the irate man, who seemed to recover himself at this question.
Earle looked surprised, and as if utterly unable to comprehend the man’s strange demeanor, and his peculiar animosity toward him.
“Have you any other objection to my making Miss Dalton my wife?” he asked, in his straightforward way.
“Yes, sir, I have.”
“May I ask what it is?”