“Oh, I am quite well, thank you. I never was better; and there’s nothing wrong, nothing at all. Everything is going to be bright now, I know that full surely.” “Indeed,” said Mr. Granger, again looking at him with a puzzled air, “and what may you want to see me about? Not but what I am always at your service, as you know,” he added apologetically. “This,” he answered, suddenly seizing the clergyman by the coat in a way that made him start. “What—my coat, do you mean?” “Don’t be so foolish, Mr. Granger. No, about Beatrice.” “Oh. indeed, Mr. Davies. Nothing wrong at the school, I hope? I think that she does her duties to the satisfaction of the committee, though I admit that the arithmetic——” “No! no, no! It is not about the school. I don’t wish her to go to the school any more. I love her, Mr. Granger, I love her dearly, and I want to marry her.” The old man flushed with pleasure. Was it possible? Did he hear aright? Owen Davies, the richest man in that part of Wales, wanted to marry his daughter, who had nothing but her beauty. It must be too good to be true! “I am indeed flattered,” he said. “It is more than she could expect—not but what Beatrice is very good-looking and very clever,” he added hastily, fearing lest he was detracting from his daughter’s market value. “Good-looking—clever; she is an angel,” murmured Owen. “Oh, yes, of course she is,” said her father, “that is, if a woman—yes, of course—and what is more, I think she’s very fond of you. I think she is pining for you. I’ve thought so for a long time.” “Is she?” said Owen anxiously. “Then all I have to say is that she takes a very curious way of showing it. She won’t say a word to me; she puts me off on every occasion. But it will be all right now—all right now.” “Oh, there, there, Mr. Davies, maids will be maids until they are wives. We know about all that,” said Mr. Granger sententiously. His would-be son-in-law looked as though he knew very little about it indeed, although the inference was sufficiently obvious. “Mr. Granger,” he said, seizing his hand, “I want to make Beatrice my wife—I do indeed.” “Well, I did not suppose otherwise, Mr. Davies.” “If you help me in this I will do whatever you like as to money matters and that sort of thing, you know. She shall have as fine a settlement as any woman in Wales. I know that goes a long way with a father, and I shall raise no difficulties.” “Very right and proper, I am sure,” said Mr. Granger, adopting a loftier tone as he discovered the advantages of his position. “But of course on such matters I shall take the advice of a lawyer. I daresay that Mr. Bingham would advise me,” he added, “as a friend of the family, you know. He is a very clever lawyer, and, besides, he wouldn’t charge anything.”