ter fortune than to get
her."
"I was sure of it, I felt certain of you, David," he cried, and reached
out his hand to me.
I put it by. "You go too fast, Mr. Drummond," said I. "There are
conditions to be made; and there is a difficulty in the path, which I
see not entirely how we shall come over. I have told you that, upon my
side, there is no objection to the marriage, but I have good reason to
believe there will be much on the young lady's."
"This is all beside the mark," says he. "I will engage for her
acceptance."
"I think you forget, Mr. Drummond," said I, "that, even in dealing with
myself you have been betrayed into two-three unpalatable expressions. I
will have none such employed to the young lady. I am here to speak and
think for the two of us; and I give you to understand that I would no
more let a wife be forced upon myself, than what I would let a husband
be forced on the young lady."
He sat and glowered at me like one in doubt and a good deal of temper.
"So that this is to be the way of it," I concluded. "I will marry Miss
Drummond, and that blythely, if she is entirely willing. But if there be
the least unwillingness, as I have reason to fear--marry her will I
never."
"Well, well," said he, "this is a small affair. As soon as she returns I
will sound her a bit, and hope to reassure you----"
But I cut in again. "Not a finger of you, Mr. Drummond, or I cry off,
and you can seek a husband to your daughter somewhere else," said I. "It
is I that am to be the only dealer and the only judge. I shall satisfy
myself exactly; and none else shall anyways meddle--you the least of
all."
"Upon my word, sir!" he exclaimed, "and who are you to be the judge?"
"The bridegroom, I believe," said I.
"This is to quibble," he cried. "You turn your back upon the facts. The
girl, my daughter, has no choice left to exercise. Her character is
gone."
"And I ask your pardon," said I, "but while this matter lies between her
and you and me, that is not so."
"What security have I!" he cried. "Am I to let my daughter's reputation
depend upon a chance?"
"You should have thought of all this long ago," said I, "before you were
so misguided as to lose her; and not afterwards, when it is quite too
late. I refuse to regard myself as any way accountable for your neglect,
and I will be browbeat by no man living. My mind is quite made up, and
come what may, I will not depart from it a hair's breadth. You and me
ar
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