Blanche clasped her hands in wondering surprise, and gasped forth one word—‘Mamma!’
‘No, Miss Fraser; my affections are settled on her lovely daughter.’
‘Me!’ exclaimed Blanche. ‘Impossible! Oh, Mr Redgrave, you are joking!’
‘I was never more serious in my life, Miss Fraser. Why should you think it impossible that I should have fallen in love with you? I am in the prime of life; I have sufficient means’——
‘O pray, Mr Redgrave, forbear! What you ask is impossible; I am engaged, indeed I am, although mamma does not know it. You won’t tell her, will you, Mr Redgrave? Promise me you will not.’
‘Certainly not; but I must inform my sisters, for it was owing to their encouragement that I have made this proposal. They led me to suppose that you were favourable to my suit.’
‘What a singular delusion! no; I don’t mean that—misapprehension.’
Septimus rose from the seat. ‘Then we resume our former relations, Miss Fraser?’
Blanche rose, and as she made a low courtesy, said: ‘If you please, Mr Redgrave.’
Septimus strode away in a towering rage with his sisters for having inflicted upon him such unnecessary humiliation, and entering the drawing-room, found Penelope and Lavinia calmly engaged in tambour-work. One glance was sufficient to inform the sisters that their brother was not in the best of tempers.