“That is true. I had the honor of travelling in the same coach with her to the metropolis; but I was altogether unconscious of being her fellow-traveller until we arrived in Dublin. A few brief words of conversation I had with her in the coach, but nothing more.”
“And you presume to say that you know not where she is—that you are ignorant of the place of her retreat'?”
“Yes, I presume to say so, Sir Thomas; I have already pledged my honor as a gentleman to that effect, and I shall not repeat it.”
“As a gentleman!—but how do I know that you are a man of honor and a gentleman?”
“Sir Thomas, don't allow your passion or prejudice to impose upon your judgment and penetration as a man of the world. I know you feel this moment that you are addressing a man who is both; and your own heart tells you that every word I have uttered respecting Miss Gourlay is true.”
“You will excuse me there, sir,” replied the baronet. “Your position in this neighborhood is anything but a guarantee to the truth of what you say. If you be a gentleman—a man of honor, why live here, incognito, afraid to declare your name, or your rank, if you have any?—why lie perdu, like a man under disgrace, or who had fled from justice?”
“Well, then, I beg you to rest satisfied that I am not under disgrace, and that I have motives for concealing my name that are disinterested, and even honorable, to myself, if they were known.”
“Pray, will you answer me another question—Do you happen to know a firm in London named Grinwell and Co.? they are toothbrush manufacturers? Now, mark my words well—I say Grinwell and Co., tooth-brush manufacturers.”
“I have until this moment never heard of Grinwell and Co., tooth-brush manufacturers.”
“Now, sir,” replied Sir Thomas, “all this may be very well and very true; but there is one fact that you can neither deny nor dispute. You have been paying your addresses clandestinely to my daughter, and there is a mutual attachment between you.”