“To be frank with you, sir,” he said, “I have other plans for Hilary, and am at this moment in treaty with Mr. Geers of Garnons. But even if she declines his suit, I am fain to confess that a marriage with your son is not what I should wish for her.” “My lord, it was her father’s wish,” said Dr. Harford. “Ay, but times have changed since the death of my son-inlaw. We do not think alike, either in religion or in politics, sir; and I should hesitate to give my grandchild in marriage to one likely to oppose me in matters both of Church and State.” “The lad is scarce eighteen,” said Dr. Harford, “and is as yet a mere observer of current events. He hath, I am well assured, nought but respect and affection for you, my lord, and his whole heart is set on wedding Hilary. Other proposals may be in a worldly way more desirable, but the children have loved each other, if I mistake not, all their lives, and ’tis ill meddling with hearts.” “The matter shall be referred to my daughter,” said the Bishop, rising. “Personally, I have nothing against your son; on the contrary, I think him full of promise. But he is over young to marry, and there are many objections to a long betrothal.” Dr. Harford could only withdraw, and the Bishop, chafing a little at having to spend his time on these mundane matters, went to his daughter’s house to tell her what had passed. Mrs. Unett had, however, already heard Hilary’s version of the story, and the thought of giving her daughter to Gabriel was so much more congenial to her than any notion of entertaining Mr. Geer’s proposal, that the Bishop found an opponent where he had looked for an ally. After a prolonged discussion, Mrs. Unett--never well able to resist the opinion of a man--sent for her daughter by way of support, and Hilary, who, after telling her mother of the events of the morning, had gone to her own chamber to dream it all over again, came down to the withdrawing room in no small trepidation. “Child,” said the Bishop, “I have had a proposal for your hand.” “Yes, my lord,” she said, curtseying as she approached him. “Sit down, my dear, and let me tell you of the gentleman.” Hilary’s eyes widened. Was Gabriel a gentleman she needed telling about? She could have laughed at the notion had not good manners obliged her to wait dutifully for the next remark. “His estate is very large, and is in this county; although some years your senior, he is still only in middle life, and will, I am assured, make you an excellent husband.” “Mother!” gasped Hilary, in dismay. “What does it mean?” “Your grandfather refers to an offer from Mr. Geers, of Garnons, which he received before that of Mr. Harford. I think, my dear, you must at least see the gentleman next week when he stays at the Palace.”