Coventry's heart went out to Rafella's father. He felt sure that the vicar was suppressing his own feelings in consideration of his cherished daughter's happiness. "Dear old chap!" he thought warmly. Readily he said: "Of course--my prospects and my financial position, and my past? I hope I shall be able to satisfy you on every point." And he proceeded to explain that he possessed a fair income of his own apart from his pay, an income that must be materially increased on the death of his mother. Therefore he could make adequate provision for a wife and a possible family. There were no secrets in his past or his present; he had led a steady life, he was sound in health and, he hoped, in morals. As for religion, he was a member of the Church of England. Then came a pause. Mr. Forte sat still, his elbow on the table, his head resting on his hand. He looked old and sad and tired, and George, with compunction, remembered his promise to Rafella. "If you will give your consent to an engagement," he said impulsively, "I would undertake not to urge Rafella to marry me till I come back next time from India. I know she does not want to leave you yet, and it would be wrong and selfish of me to expect it." The vicar placed his hand before his mouth and coughed. To Coventry his self-possession seemed extraordinary. The notion that worldly inducements might weigh with this simple old parson never came into his head. "Well, well," said Mr. Forte magnanimously, "I must think it over. In the meantime, my dear lad"--with a smile of resignation he held out his hand and Coventry grasped it emotionally--"go and talk to Rafella." He went, and a few minutes later the vicar resumed his spectacles, drew the blank sheets of sermon paper towards him, and opened his Bible. He happened to light upon the text: "_Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee_." And he began to write rapidly. Mr. Forte had made up his mind that Rafella should marry Captain Coventry in the autumn and go back with him to India. He would miss his daughter sadly, the wrench of parting would be cruel, but such things had to be; God would give him grace to bear the trial.... Otherwise, translated into the vulgar tongue--here was a young man of good character and safe position, with private means and clear prospects, who would make an excellent husband; it was a chance in a thousand, and if the fellow were ready and anxious to marry the penniless daughter of a poverty-stricken country clergyman, the vicar did not intend to discourage him nor to take the hazard of sentimental and unnecessary delays.