‘You do not know who I am, I suppose?’ said Mrs Abbot after a pause.
‘I have the pleasure of knowing Mrs Abbot by sight,’ replied Millicent in a perfectly calm voice.
‘Then you know why I have called upon you?’
The girl made no reply.
Mrs Abbot continued, with unmistakable scorn in her voice: ‘I have called to see the young lady whom my son tells me he is resolved, against his parents’ wish, to make his wife.’
‘I am sorry, Mrs Abbot, you should have thought it needful to call and tell me this.’
‘How could you expect otherwise? Frank Abbot bears one of the oldest names, and is heir to one of the best estates in the county. When he marries, he must marry a wife in his own position. What has Miss Keene to offer in exchange for what he can bestow?’
The girl’s pale face flushed; but her brave brown eyes met those of her interrogator without flinching. ‘If I thought you would understand me, Mrs Abbot, I should say that I have a woman’s true love to give him, and that is enough. He sought me, and won that love. He asked for it, and I gave it. I can say no more.’
‘In these days,’ said Mrs Abbot contemptuously, ‘persons in our station require more than love—that, a young man like Frank can always have for the asking.—Of what family are you, Miss Keene?’
‘Of none. My father was a tradesman. He was unfortunate in his business, and has been many years abroad trying to redeem his fortunes. With the exception of an education which, I fear, has cost my poor father many privations, I have nothing to boast of. I live with an aunt, who has a small income of her own.—Now you know my history.’