“I hardly know. Sometimes I thought she was, and sometimes I thought she wasn’t.”
“Well, speaking for myself, Charlie,” said my aunt, inclining her head forward, and addressing me in her most confidential manner, “I may tell you, you are welcome to my consent, if you can succeed in making her love you.”
Delighted as I was, I couldn’t be amazed; for you must remember that Conny had told me of her mother’s wishes the evening before.
“I have not yet expressed my wishes to my husband,” she continued, “as I prefer to wait until you and Conny have settled it between you. But I do not doubt that he would be as gratified as myself by the union of his child with the son of his favourite brother.”
“He’s amiable and good enough to consent to anything that would give happiness,” said I.
“He is, indeed.”
“As to my father,” I continued, “it would delight him to hear that I was to be married to Conny. He is a great advocate for marriages between cousins. He considers that the dignity of a family can only be sustained and transmitted by the union of relations.”
“Providing there is no madness.”
“Oh, of course. Don’t you agree with him?”
“Entirely. But what do you yourself think of Conny? does she seem fond of you?”