England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
“Yes,” said Jack. Though his forefathers had been Brownlows of Masterton
for generations, which ought to have given him self-possession if any
thing could, and though he had been brought up at a public-school, which
was still more to the purpose, this simple question took away the power
of speech from him as completely as if he had been the merest clown. He
had not felt the least difficulty about what he was going to say, but
all at once to say any thing at all seemed impossible.
“Then tell me what it is,” said Mrs. Preston, sitting down in the black
old-fashioned high-backed easy-chair. Her heart was melting to him more
and more every moment, the sight of his confusion being sweet to her
eyes, but of course he did not know this--neither, it is to be feared,
would Jack have very much cared.
“Yes,” he said again; “the fact was--I--wanted to speak to you--about
your daughter. I suppose this sort of thing is always an awkward
business. I have seen her with--with my sister, you know--we couldn’t
help seeing each other; and the fact is, we’ve--we’ve grown fond of each
other without knowing it: that is about the state of the case.”
“Fond of each other?” said Mrs. Preston, faltering. “Mr. Brownlow, I
don’t think that is how you ought to speak. You mean you have grown fond
of Pamela. I am very, very sorry; but Heaven forbid that my poor girl--”
“I mean what I say,” said Jack, sturdily--“we’ve grown fond of each
other. If you ask her she will tell you the same. We were not thinking
of any thing of the kind--it came upon us unawares. I tell you the whole
truth, that you may not wonder at me coming so unprepared. I don’t come
to you as a fellow might that had planned it all out and turned it over
in his mind, and could tell you how much he had a year, and what he
could settle on his wife, and all that. I tell you frankly the truth,
Mrs. Preston. We were not thinking of any thing of the kind; but now,
you see, we have both of us found it out.”
“I don’t understand you,” said the astonished mother; “what have you
found out?”
“We’ve found out just what I’ve been telling you,” said Jack--“that
we’re fond of each other. You may say I should have told you first; but
the truth was, I never had the opportunity--not that I would have been
sure to have taken advantage of it if I had. We went on without knowing
what we were doing, and then it came upon us all at once.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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