“Tom Rivers is a favourite everywhere, let me tell you, sir. Eliza would not refuse him for you.”
“Perhaps, Captain Monk, you will converse with her upon this point?”
“I intend to give her my orders—if that’s what you mean,” returned the Captain. “And now, sir, I think our discussion may terminate.”
Mr. Hamlyn saw no use in prolonging it for the present. Captain Monk bowed him out of the house and called his daughter into the room.
“Eliza,” he began, scorning to beat about the bush, “I have received an offer of marriage for you.”
Miss Eliza blushed a little, not much: few things could make her do that now. Once our blushes have been wasted, as hers were on Robert Grame, their vivid freshness has faded for ever and aye. “The song has left the bird.”
“And I have accepted it,” continued Captain Monk. “He would like the wedding to be early in the year, so you may get your rattle-traps in order for it. Tell your aunt I will give her a blank cheque for the cost, and she may fill it in.”
“Thank you, papa.”
“There’s the letter; you can read it”—pushing one across the table to her. “It came by special messenger last night, and I have sent my answer this morning.”
Eliza Monk glanced at the contents, which were written on rose-coloured paper. For a moment she looked puzzled.