Mattie took this seriously.
“Nan is chosen:—are you not, Nan?” she said, in her downright fashion. And then, as Sir Harry stared at this, and Nan blushed and looked even prettier, Phillis first scolded Mattie soundly for her bluntness, and then took upon herself to describe Dick’s perfections:
“The dearest fellow in the world, Harry, when you come to know him; but not handsome, and dreadfully young looking, some people think. But, as Nan will not look at any one else, we must make the best of him.”
“And when are they to be married?” asked her cousin, curiously. He was not quite pleased with this discovery.
“When?—Oh, Harry, there is an ‘if’ in the case,” returned Phillis, solemnly. “The dearest fellow in the world has an ogre of a father,—a man so benighted, so narrow in his prejudices, that he thinks it decidedly infra dig. for his intended daughter in-law to sew other people’s gowns. I do love that expression. Harry: it is so forcible. So he forbids the banns.”
“No, really!—Is she serious, Nan?” But Nan grew shy all at once, and would not answer.
“I am serious, Sir Henry Challoner,” replied Phillis, pompously. “The path of true love is impeded. Poor Dick is pining in his rooms at Oxford; and Nan—well, I am afraid her looks belie her; only you know appearances are sometimes deceitful.” And indeed Nan’s pink cheeks and air of placid contentment scarcely bore out her sister’s words.
The newly found cousin sat in silent perplexity staring at them both. Love-affairs were not much in his way; and until now he had never been thrown much with his equals in the other sex. His rough colonial life, full of excitement and money-getting, had engrossed his youth. He was now a man of thirty; but in disposition, in simplicity, and in a certain guilelessness of speech, he seemed hardly more than an overgrown boy.
“Well, now, is it not like a book?” he said, at last, breaking the silence quite abruptly. “It must be an awful bother for you, Nan; but we must put a stop to all that. I am the head of the family; and I shall have a word to say to that Mr.—what is his name?”
“Mr. Mayne,” returned Nan, softly.