“Indeed, sir.”
“Yes, sir, indeed. Mark me, Colonel Mires, I am fully acquainted with my daughter’s temperament, her inclinings, every phase of her gentle disposition; I am fully convinced that she has no guile, would not cast about her to find a man to love, to bestow her heart upon, in the ultimate hope of following up the gift with that of her hand. It is not her nature; she must be wooed to be won.”
“That I believe,” exclaimed Colonel Mires, with some little emphasis.
“Of course,” responded Wilton. “Now let me inform you, sir, if you know it not already, she has been wooed, sir, and won; surreptitiously wooed, and stealthily, fraudulently won.”
The face of Colonel Mires changed colour like a chameleon; he knitted his brows, and bent an almost fierce gaze upon Wilton.
“Have you strong reasons, sir, for forming this strange conclusion?” he inquired.
“Oh, Colonel!” rejoined Wilton, with an expressive gesture, “the very best; I have it on the authority of the lady herself.”
An oath escaped the lips of the Colonel. He rose and paced the room in visible agitation. When he had somewhat controlled his emotion, he returned to his seat, and confronting Wilton, he said—
“Will you tell me, sir, who has thus acted?”
“That is what I wish to know,” exclaimed Wilton, striking the palm of his hand with his clenched fist; “the lady omitted that very important item in her confession. I sent for you under an impression that you were the very man who could supply that valuable piece of information.”