'Harry, you have an aunt at Penzance, take me to her. I will live with her a few years, till this trouble about Ophir is passed, and then you shall marry me from her house.'
'That is not possible, Orange. My aunt strongly disapproved of my engagement. She is a most bigoted Catholic, and could not endure the thought of my taking a Protestant to wife.'
'I will be a Catholic; I do not care.'
'But,' said he, coldly, 'that is not all. Our families are so wide apart in the social scale. My aunt is very proud of her race, and you know your stock is not—well, neither ancient nor gentle. You may change your creed, but not your blood. I think nothing of this. If I had considered it, I would not have sought to marry you, but my aunt—you see we are speaking of her, and you propose that I should take you to her—my aunt is very stiff in these matters. I cannot force you into her house. So you see this scheme is impracticable also.'
'Where am I to go?' asked Orange, desperately; 'I must live somewhere. You are my proper protector, to whom I fly. I ask you, find me, give me a home. See, Harry, I am poor now, but it may not always be so. The directors of Ophir have left us some thousands of pounds in Patagonian bonds.'
'Oh! I know them. They were left because worthless.'
'They are worthless now, but they may become valuable hereafter. Let us wait till then; I will be patient, and in time you will marry me.'
'Oh, certainly, when the Patagonians are at par.'
'But in the meantime, Harry, what is to become of me?'
'Really, I am at a loss to know. I am at my wits' end what to propose.'