“And what did she say?  Yes, or no?”

“She made certain faint objections, such as a sweet, modest girl like her makes as a matter of course, and then she yielded.”

“What! consented to be your wife?”

“Not in those very words; but she said she esteemed me, and she knew I loved her; and, when I asked her whether I might speak to you, she said ‘Yes.’”

“But that was as good as accepting you.”

“I am glad you agree with me.  You know, Mr. Carden, thousands have been accepted in that very form.  Well, sir, the next thing was we were caught in that cursed snow-storm.”

“Yes, she has told me all about that.”

“Not all, I suspect.  We got separated for a few minutes, and I found her in an old ruined church, where a sort of blacksmith was working at his forge.  I found her, sir, I might say almost in the blacksmith’s arms.  I thought little of that at first:  any man has a right to succor any woman in distress:  but, sir, I discovered that Miss Carden and this man were acquaintances:  and, by degrees, I found, to my horror, that he had a terrible power over her.”

“What do you mean, sir?  Do you intend to affront us?”

“No.  And, if the truth gives you pain, pray remember it gives me agony.  However, I must tell you the man was not what he looked, a mere blacksmith; he is a sort of Proteus, who can take all manner of shapes:  at the time I’m speaking of, he was a maker of carving tools.  Well, sir, you could hardly believe the effect of this accidental interview with that man:  the next day, when I renewed my addresses, Miss Carden evaded me, and was as cold as she had been kind:  she insisted on it she was not engaged to me, and said she would not marry anybody for two years; and this, I am sorry to say, was not her own idea, but this Little’s; for I overheard him ask her to wait two years for him.”

“Little!  What, Raby’s new nephew?”

“That is the man.”

Mr. Carden was visibly discomposed by this communication.  He did not choose to tell Coventry how shocked he was at his own daughter’s conduct; but, after a considerable pause, he said, “If what you have told me is the exact truth, I shall interpose parental authority, and she shall keep her engagement with you, in spite of all the Littles in the world.”

“Pray do not be harsh,” said Coventry.

“No, but I shall be firm.”

“Insanity in his family, for one thing,” suggested Coventry, scarcely above a whisper.

“That is true; his father committed suicide.  But really that consideration is not needed.  My daughter must keep her engagements, as I keep mine.”

With this understanding the friends parted.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Grace happened to have a headache next morning, and did not come down to breakfast:  but it was Saturday, and Mr. Carden always lunched at home on that day.  So did Grace, because it was one of Little’s days.  This gave Mr. Carden the opportunity he wanted.  When they were alone he fixed his eyes on his daughter, and said quietly, “What is your opinion of—­a jilt?”