She made a little moue at the 'Miss Farrar,' and I went on: 'You are very young, are you not?—younger than I expected to find you.' I was going to add for an engaged young lady, but thought it better to let the allusion to her engagement come first from her.
'Only just turned seventeen,' she replied with a little sigh.
'Is that so very depressing?'
'Dear Miss Haddon, if I may tell you about myself, we shall feel more at home with each other?'
'Tell me anything you please, my dear; and try to believe this much—you may trust me.'
'I believed that, the very first moment I looked at you. Yours is a face to trust.'
'Is it—is it?' I murmured, smoothing the hair back from her white brow. 'That is indeed something to be thankful for. And now I can ask with a clear conscience, why it is a trouble to be only seventeen?'
'Because—dear Miss Haddon, I am engaged; and Arthur—that is his name, you know—does not like waiting until I am older, to be married. Papa says he must wait at least a year, and Arthur does not like it. Of course I should prefer waiting. I am sure we could not possibly be happier than we are now, and I should not like leaving papa—I will not, until he is quite well again—but I do not like Arthur to be disappointed either.'
'Mr Farrar told me of the engagement.'
'But I do not think that papa told you of one thing which is the very best of all. Arthur first met me at a garden-party, given by one of our neighbours, just after I came home for good; and he had not the least idea that papa was rich when he began to care for me. He liked me for myself—only for myself!' with a grave little nod at me. 'He was quite surprised when he found that I am an heiress. Do you know, he often says that he should prefer having to work for me; only, of course, that need not be.'