Of High Descent. Fenn George Manville
you have always cared for me very much?”
“Yes, Harry. Always.”
“Well, don’t say it in such a cold, serious way, dear.”
“But it is a matter upon which one is bound to be cool and very serious.”
“Well, yes, of course. I don’t know that people are any the better for showing a lot of gush.”
“No, Harry, it is not so deep as the liking which is calm and cool and enduring.”
“I s’pose not,” said the young man very disconcertedly. “But don’t be quite so cool. I know you too well to think you would play with me.”
“I hope I shall always be very sincere, Harry.”
“Of course you will. I know you will. We began by being playmates – almost like brother and sister.”
“Yes, Harry.”
“But I always felt as I grew older that I should some day ask you to be my darling little wife; and, come now, you always thought so too?”
“Yes, Harry, I always thought so too.”
“Ah, that’s right, dear,” said the young man, flushing. “You always were the dearest and most honest and plain-spoken girl I ever met.”
“I try to be.”
“Of course; and look yonder, there’s old Pradelle, the dearest and best friend a fellow ever had, talking to Louie as I’m talking to you.”
“Yes, I’m afraid he is.”
“Afraid? Oh, come now, don’t be prejudiced. I want you to like Victor.”
“That would be impossible.”
“Impossible! What, the man who will most likely be Louie’s husband?”
“Mr Pradelle will never be Louie’s husband.”
“What! Why, how do you know?”
“Because I know your sister’s heart too well.”
“And you don’t like Pradelle?”
“No, Harry; and I’m sorry you ever chose him for a companion.”
“Oh, come, dear, that’s prejudice and a bit of jealousy. Well, never mind about that now. I want to talk about ourselves.”
“Yes, Harry.”
“I want you to promise to be my little wife. I’m four-and-twenty, and you are nearly twenty, so it’s quite time to talk about it.”
Madelaine shook her head.
“Oh, come!” he said merrily, “no girl’s coyness: we are too old friends for that, and understand one another too well. Come, dear, when is it to be?”
She turned and looked in the handsome flushed face beside her, and then said in the most cool and matter-of-fact way:
“It is too soon to talk like that, Harry.”
“Too soon? Not a bit of it. You have told me that you will be my wife.”
“Some day, perhaps.”
“Oh, nonsense, dear! I’ve been thinking this all over well. You see, Maddy, you’ve let my not sticking to business trouble you.”
“Yes, Harry, very much.”
“Well, I’m very sorry, clear; and I suppose I have been a bit to blame, but I’ve been doing distasteful work, and I’ve been like a boat swinging about without an anchor. I want you to be my anchor to hold me fast. I’ve wanted something to steady me – something to work for; and if I’ve got you for a wife I shall be a different man directly.”
Madelaine sighed.
“Aunt Marguerite won’t like it, because she is not very fond of you.”
“No,” said Madelaine, “she does not like fat Dutch frauleins – Dutch dolls.”
“Get out! What stuff! She’s a prejudiced old woman full of fads. She never did like you.”
“Never, Harry.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter a bit.”
“No. That does not matter a bit.”
“You see I’ve had no end of thinks about all this, and it seems to me that if we’re married at once, it will settle all the worries and bothers I’ve had lately. The governor wants me to go to business again: but what’s the use of that? He’s rich, and so is your father, and they can easily supply us with all that we should want, and then we shall be as happy as can be. Of course I shall work at something. I don’t believe in a fellow with nothing to do. You don’t either?”
“No, Harry.”
“Of course not, but all that toiling and moiling for the sake of money is a mistake. Never mind what Aunt Marguerite says. I’ll soon work her round, and of course I can do what I like with the governor. He’s so fond of you that he’ll be delighted, and he knows it will do me good. So now there’s nothing to do but for me to go and see your father and ask his consent. I did think of letting you coax him round: but that would be cowardly, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, Harry, very cowardly, and lower you very much in my eyes.”
“Of course: but, I say, don’t be so serious. Well, it’s a bitter pill to swallow, for your governor will be down on me tremendously. I’ll face him, though. I’ll talk about our love and all that sort of thing, and it will be all right. I’ll go to him to-day.”
“No, Harry,” said Madelaine, looking him full in the face, “don’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because it would expose you to a very severe rebuff.”
“Will you speak to him then? No: I’ll do it.”
“No. If you did my father would immediately speak to me, and I should have to tell him what I am going to tell you.”
“Well? Out with it.”
“Do you suppose,” said Madelaine, once more turning her clear frank eyes upon the young man, and speaking with a quiet decision that startled him; “do you suppose I could be so wanting in duty to those at home, so wanting in love to you, Harry, that I could consent to a marriage which would only mean fixing you permanently in your present thoughtless ways?”
“Madelaine!”
“Let me finish, Harry, and tell you what has been on my lips for months past. I am younger by several years than you, but do you think I am so wanting in worldly experience that I am blind to your reckless folly, or the pain you are giving father and sister by your acts?”
“Why, Maddy,” he cried, in a voice full of vexation, which belied the mocking laugh upon his lips, “I didn’t think you could preach like that.”
“It is time to preach, Harry, when I see you so lost to self-respect, and find that you are ready to place yourself and the girl you wish to call wife, in a dependent position, instead of proudly and manfully making yourself your own master.”
“Well, this is pleasant! Am I to understand that you throw me over?”
“No, Harry,” said Madelaine sadly, “you are to understand that I care for you too much to encourage you in a weak folly.”
“A weak folly – to ask you what you have always expected I should, ask!”
“Yes, to ask it at such a time when, after being placed in post after post by my father’s help, and losing them one by one by your folly, you – ”
“Oh, come, that will do,” cried the young man angrily; “if it’s to be like this it’s a good job that we came to an explanation at once. So this is gentle, amiable, sweet-tempered Madelaine, eh! Hallo! You!”
He turned sharply. Louise and Pradelle had come over a stretch of sand with their