“That is all I ask. I shall never be a husband to you more than in name, Aurelia, nor ask of you more than you give me now, namely, your sweet presence for a few hours in the evening, without seeing me. Can you bear thus to devote your young life, for a time at least?” “You know, sir, how glad I always am to be with you,” said Aurelia, relieved yet half regretting that strange fervour. “I will do my very best to please you.” “Ah! sweet child,” he began, with a thrill of deep feeling in his voice; but checking himself he continued, “All I ask is patience and trust for a time--for a time--you promise it!” “With all my heart,” said Aurelia. “I will use my best endeavours to requite that trust, my child,” he said. “Is not the Christian watchword faith, not sight? It must be yours likewise.” “I hope so,” she said, scarcely understanding. He then interrogated her somewhat closely as to the letters which had prepared her for the proposal; and as Aurelia was far too simple to conceal anything under cross-examination, Mr. Belamour soon found out what her Ladyship’s threats and promises had been. “The Manor House?” he said. “That is the original nucleus of the property which had hitherto gone to the heir male?” “So my sister told me,” said Aurelia. “That letter, which Dr. Godfrey read to me, spoke of my poor brother’s discomfort in holding it. It is well if thus tardily she refund it, though not as your price, my poor child. It should have been as matter of justice, if not by her husband’s dying wish. So this is the alternative set before you! Has it been set before your father likewise?” “Almost certainly she will have threatened to dismiss him if he do not consent. It was that which made my sister decide on sending me here, or what would become of him and Eugene? But I should think my Lady knew my father better than to seem to offer any kind of price, as you call it, for me.” “Precisely. You have heard from this maternal sister of yours? Does he then give his consent?” “They say they will not have my inclinations forced, and that they had rather undergo anything than that I should be driven to--to--” “To be as much a sacrifice as Iphigenia,” he concluded the sentence. “Indeed, sir,” said Aurelia, quite restored, “I cannot see why they should imagine me to have such objections, or want me to be so cautious and considerate. I shall write to my papa that it is not at all repugnant to me, for that you are very, very good to me; and if I can make your time pass ever so little more pleasantly, it is a delight to me. I am sure I shall like you better than if---” “Stay, stay, child,” he said, half laughing; “remember, it is as a father that I ask you to love and trust the old recluse.” She thought she had been forward, crimsoned in the dark, and retired into her shell for the rest of the evening. She was glad when with his usual tact, Mr. Belamour begged for the recitation he knew she could make with the least effort of memory.