"He is an Englishman; you do not understand Englishmen," her father said; and then he added, firmly, "You are not to be deterred by what may happen to yourself. Well, consider what may happen to him. I tell you I will not have this risk run. George Brand is too valuable to us. If you or he persist in this folly, it will be necessary to provide against all contingencies by procuring his banishment."
"Banishment!" she exclaimed, with a quick and frightened look.
"That may not sound much to you," said her father, calmly, "for you have scarcely what may be called a native country. You have lived anywhere, everywhere. It is different with an Englishman, who has his birthplace, his family estate, his friends in England."
"What do you mean, papa?" said she, in a low voice. She had not been frightened by the fancy picture he had drawn of her own future, but this ominous threat about her lover seemed full of menace.
"I say that, at all hazards," Lind continued, looking at her from under the bushy eyebrows, "this folly must be brought to an end. It is not expedient that a marriage between you and Mr. Brand should even be thought of. You have both got other duties, inexorable duties. It is my business to see that nothing comes in the way of their fulfilment. Do you understand?"
She sat dumb now, with a vague fear about the future of her lover; for herself she had no fear.
"Some one must be sent to Philadelphia, to remain there probably for his lifetime. Do not drive me to send George Brand."
"Papa!" It was a cry of appeal; but he paid no heed. This matter he was determined to settle at once.
"Understand, this idle notion must be dropped; otherwise George Brand goes to the States forthwith, and remains
there. Fortunately, I don't suppose the matter has gone far enough to cause either of you any deep misery. This is not what one would call a madly impassioned letter."