Astonishment, perplexity, added to a thrill of hope, for a few moments deprived Henry Halford of the power of speech; at last he said in a tone of deep feeling—
"Mr. Armstrong, nothing could ever change the love I bear for your daughter."
"My dear young friend," said the father, who noticed the painful excitement under which he spoke, "believe me I do not ask from idle curiosity; if my daughter is willing to listen to your proposals now I will not say you nay, and you are at liberty to write and ask her. The address is Meadow Farm, near Basingstoke."
"I know not how to reply to you, Mr. Armstrong," said Henry, "but will you allow me to say that in my regard for Miss Armstrong I am not influenced by hopes of obtaining her fortune, which I hear is considerable?"
Mr. Armstrong placed his hand on the arm of the young clergyman, and said—
"Have you heard the rumour of my great losses, Mr. Halford?"
"I have heard something to that effect," he replied, "and I could almost wish to find it true, that I might prove my love for your daughter."
"Well, well, these reports are not all true; just write to Mary, and then we can talk about the other matter by-and-by. And here we are at the station; shall I offer you a seat in the pony carriage? it is no doubt waiting for me."
But after this exciting interview Henry wanted to be alone; he accompanied Mr. Armstrong to the station entrance, and then after a warm hand-clasp the two whom money had hitherto separated, parted as close friends.
That evening, when Mr. Armstrong joined his wife in the drawing-room, he seated himself in his easy-chair, took up the Times, and appeared for a few minutes deep in its columns.