“I do not fear, Mr. Beaumont, nay, let me say I do not tremble, Edward, lest you should lack courage and high endeavour. ’Tis for myself I tremble. I had looked to spend my life, if not by my father’s side, at least near him. I had schooled myself to anticipate without other yearnings the serene uneventful round of a village life. But you have touched my soul to fiercer longings, you have opened my eyes to a wider vision. I do not fear poverty, and there can be no meanness in the life that contents you. But it is all so strange, so unreal, you know me so little. You lure me to a nobler and a grander life, and I dread lest the past of my upbringing may fetter my limbs and keep my feet from those giddier heights you would tread.” “If you can love me, Eleanor, as I love you, your soul will grow into my own. We shall have one heart, one hope, one life. Say, oh! Eleanor, can such bliss be mine!” He stole his arm round her waist, the proud head drooped upon his shoulder, and upon the lips that breathed “I love you true!” he pressed the kindling kiss. It was only with a qualified satisfaction that Archdeacon St. Clair received Edward’s formal proposal for his daughter’s hand. “I had other views for her, Beaumont, other views. And I have had them so long that they seem part of my life, part of the natural order of things. Everything was going just as I wished till—till you came. Eleanor would make an ideal chatelaine, and I had hoped to see her established almost at my Vicarage gates.” “At Thoresby Manor in effect?” “Well, yes. I’ve no doubt the Squire took the thing as settled.” “It doesn’t do, Archdeacon, to take a woman’s hand for granted. I haven’t much experience of the sex, but I fancy a lady does not care to be regarded as to be had for the asking. A woman likes to be wooed before she is won.” “Well, it seems you have both wooed and won. There’s one comfort, I shan’t have to explain all about those confounded Skerne Iron Works in which Eleanor’s fortune is invested. You’ll have to take it in shares instead of cash.” “I want neither the shares nor the cash. I want Eleanor.” “I don’t see it’s much use coming to me now. Eleanor’s her own mistress. Well, Beaumont, you know I like you. Of course, I think your opinions are horrid, but you’ll wear out of them, just as young men of poetical fancies wear out of long hair and Byron collars. But, frankly, and though it’s a nasty thing to say to a fellow in my own house, I aspired higher for my only daughter than a provincial attorney.” Edward winced and flushed. “A provincial attorney may rise to the Woolsack, Archdeacon St. Clair. He is not more remote from it than a curate from a mitre.” “Now, you’re huffed, and I don’t wish you to be. You may thank your stars you haven’t Eleanor’s mother to deal with instead of me. You’d have heard a great deal about her grandfather, the Earl. I know I did.” “Well, he’s dead and buried now, Archdeacon.”