“And you will answer it frankly?”
“Certainly.”
“Now for it,” thought the woollen-draper, “I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies.—Well, then, my dear,” he added aloud, “do you still entertain the strong attachment you did to Captain Darrell?”
Winifred's cheeks glowed with blushes, and fixing her eyes, which flashed with resentment, upon the questioner, she said:
“I have promised to answer your question, and I will do so. I love him as a brother.”
“Only as a brother?” persisted Kneebone.
If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper.
“If you knew how much importance I attach to your answer,” he continued passionately, “you would not refuse me one. Were Captain Darrell to offer you his hand, would you accept it?”
“Your impertinence deserves very different treatment, Sir,” said Winifred; “but, to put an end to this annoyance, I will tell you—I would not.”
“And why not?” asked Kneebone, eagerly.