"
Mr. Wishart raised his eyebrows at the peculiar words. "Certainly you
have not," he said. "I regard you as the most promising by far of the
younger men of my acquaintance, and any little services I may have
rendered have been amply repaid me."
The younger man bowed and looked into the fire.
"It is very kind of you to speak so," he said. "I have been wondering
whether I might not ask for a further kindness, the greatest favour
which you could confer upon me. Have you made any plans for your
daughter's future?"
Mr. Wishart sat up stiffly on the instant. "You mean?" he said.
"I mean that I love Alice . . . your daughter . . . and I wish to make
her my wife. If you will give me your consent, I will ask her."
"But--but," said the old man, stammering. "Does the girl know anything
of this?"
"She knows that I love her, and I think she will not be unkind."
"I don't know that I object," said Mr. Wishart after a long pause. "In
fact I am very willing, and I am very glad that you had the good manners
to speak to me first. Yes, upon my word, sir, I am pleased. You have
had a creditable career, and your future promises well. My girl will
help you, for though I say it, she will not be ill-provided for. I
respect your character and I admire your principles, and I give you my
heartiest good wishes."
Mr. Stocks rose and held out his hand.
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