I laughed a little at her want of logic.
"Annabel, my dear, you have yourself answered the question. As I hold you to my heart now, so will I, in as short a time as may be, hold you in my home and at my hearth. Let what will betide, you shall have one true friend to shelter and protect you with his care and love for ever and for ever."
Her tears were falling.
"Oh please, please, Charles! I am sure it ought not to be. Aunt Lucy would tell you so."
Aunt Lucy came in at that moment, and proved to be on my side. She would be going to Madeira at the close of the summer, and the difficulty as to what was to be done then with Annabel had begun to trouble her greatly.
"I cannot take her with me, you see, Charles," she said. "In her mother's precarious state, the child must not absent herself from England. Still less can I leave her to her mother's care. Therefore I think your proposal exactly meets the dilemma. I suppose matters have been virtually settled between you for some little time now."
"Oh, Aunt Lucy!" remonstrated Annabel, blushing furiously.
"Well, my dear, and I say it is all for the best. If you can suggest a better plan I am willing to hear it."
Annabel sat silent, her head drooping.
"I may tell you this much, child: your father looked forward to it and approved it. Not that he would have allowed the marriage to take place just yet had he lived; I am sure of that; but he is not living, and circumstances alter cases."