Here young Jacob paused, then he took courage and added,—"and I, Mrs. Stanburne, have ventured for some years past to indulge dreams and hopes which may never be realized. You know what my dreams have been. I had hoped that perhaps my plain common name might have been forgotten, and that as you and Colonel Stanburne had always been very kind to me, and Miss Edith had never wounded me by any haughtiness or coldness, I had hoped that perhaps some day any difficulties which existed might be overcome, and that she would accept me with the consent of her parents."
Edith Stanburne rose from her seat and quietly left the room. There was no agitation visible in her face, but it was very pale.
"My dear Jacob," Mrs. Stanburne said decidedly, "we like you very much—we have always liked you very much, and you have always behaved honorably, and as a gentleman. But I am sure that Edith would not sacrifice your prospects. Every thing forbids it; our esteem for yourself forbids it, and our pride forbids it. Besides, I have not authority to allow you two young people to engage yourselves without the consent of the Colonel and Lady Helena."
"May I not speak to Miss Stanburne?"
"It would be better that you should not speak to her in private, but you may speak to her if you like in my presence."
"I should be glad to know what she herself really thinks."
Mrs. Stanburne left the room, and after ten minutes had elapsed, which seemed to young Jacob like a century, she returned, accompanied by her grand-daughter.
Edith was still pale, but she had a look of great self-possession. What was going on in her mind just then may be best expressed by the following little soliloquy:—
"Poor, dear Jacob, how I do love him! What a paradise it would be, that simple, quiet life with him—at Shayton, anywhere in the world! But I love him too much to ruin him, so I must be hard now." And then she acted her part.