accumulated around him, would be as painful to his mind and heart, as unknown rooms and paths, and people, would assuredly be trying to his bodily infirmities.
She could not refuse her acquiescence to these plans, although it increased her obligations to one from whom she was forced still to withhold the only return he asked for his kindness.
After a good deal of discussion, Charles decided that he would go the next morning to London to seek an interview with his cousin, Mr. Paine, and, if possible, bring him down to “the Ferns;” he further determined to engage some clever architect, who could give them the best plan for arranging Primrose Bank, and then the alterations could commence without the least delay; and having come to this determination, he took leave, and returned to his house, to think what more he could do to win Hilary’s heart.
Left together, the father and daughter sat some time in silence; he broke it by saying,
“Hilary, my child, is it for my sake only that you will not listen to Charles Huyton’s love?”
Hilary started, laid down her work, and going to him, she hid her face on the back of his chair, while she whispered—
“Dearest papa, I would not listen to any one’s love, who proposed to take me away from you!”
“I could ill spare you just now; but yet, if it would make you happy, my child, I would give you to him,” replied he, drawing down her face and kissing her.
“But it would not—it would make me miserable; I do not love Mr. Huyton well enough to marry him. To go and live with him would be wretchedness, and I am very, very happy, with you and my sisters—as happy as I can be!”
“I do not feel sure of that; I shall regret my blindness more than I ought, if it interferes with such a prospect for you.”