“Of which, I suppose, she herself is the judge”.
“Why, no, not altogether. Her aunt has a voice in the matter always, and a very potent one”.
“And, of course, Miss Rosedew, managed upon such enlightened principles, never attempts to deceive you”?
“Amy! my Amy deceive me”! The rector turned pale at the very idea. “But these questions are surely unusual from a gentleman whom I have known for so very short a time. I am entitled, in turn, to ask your reason for putting them”. Mr. Rosedew, never suspecting indignities, could look very dignified.
“Iʼm in for it now”, thought Rufus Hutton; “what a fool I am! I fancied the old fellow had no nous, except for Latin and Greek”.
Strange to say, the old fellow had nous enough to notice his hesitation. John Rosedew got up from his chair, and stood looking at Rufus Hutton.
“Sir, I will thank you to tell me exactly what you mean about my daughter”.
“Nothing at all, Mr. Rosedew. What do you suppose I should mean”?
“You should mean nothing at all, sir. But I believe that you do mean something. And, please God, I will have it out of you”. Rufus Hutton said afterwards that he had two great frights that evening, and he believed the last was the worst. The parson never dreamed that any man could be afraid of him, except it were a liar, and he looked upon Rufus contemptuously. The man of the world was nothing before the man of truth.
“Mr. Rosedew”, said Rufus, recovering himself, “your conduct is very extraordinary; and (you will excuse my saying it) more violent than becomes a man of your position and character”.