Mr. Sherwin helped himself to a second glass of wine, without taking the smallest notice of this.

“I hope Mrs. Sherwin has not hurt herself?” I said.  “Oh dear no! not worth a moment’s thought—­awkwardness and nervousness, nothing else—­she always was nervous—­the doctors (all humbugs) can do nothing with her—­it’s very sad, very sad indeed; but there’s no help for it.”

By this time (in spite of all my efforts to preserve some respect for him, as Margaret’s father) he had sunk to his proper place in my estimation.

“Well, my dear Sir,” he resumed, “to go back to where I was interrupted by Mrs. S. Let me see:  I was saying that my dear girl was a little confused, and so forth.  As a matter of course, I put before her all the advantages which such a connection as yours promised—­and at the same time, mentioned some of the little embarrassing circumstances—­the private marriage, you know, and all that—­besides telling her of certain restrictions in reference to the marriage, if it came off, which I should feel it my duty as a father to impose; and which I shall proceed, in short, to explain to you.  As a man of the world, my dear Sir, you know as well as I do, that young ladies don’t give very straightforward answers on the subject of their prepossessions in favour of young gentlemen.  But I got enough out of her to show me that you had made pretty good use of your time—­no occasion to despond, you know—­I leave you to make her speak plain; it’s more in your line than mine, more a good deal.  And now let us come to the business part of the transaction.  All I have to say is this:—­if you agree to my proposals, then I agree to yours.  I think that’s fair enough—­Eh?”

“Quite fair, Mr. Sherwin.”

“Just so.  Now, in the first place, my daughter is too young to be married yet.  She was only seventeen last birthday.”

“You astonish me!  I should have imagined her three years older at least.”

“Everybody thinks her older than she is—­everybody, my dear Sir—­and she certainly looks it.  She’s more formed, more developed I may say, than most girls at her age.  However, that’s not the point.  The plain fact is, she’s too young to be married now—­too young in a moral point of view; too young in an educational point of view; too young altogether.  Well:  the upshot of this is, that I could not give my consent to Margaret’s marrying, until another year is out—­say a year from this time.  One year’s courtship for the finishing off of her education, and the formation of her constitution—­you understand me, for the formation of her constitution.”

A year to wait!  At first, this seemed a long trial to endure, a trial that ought not to be imposed on me.  But the next moment, the delay appeared in a different light.  Would it not be the dearest of privileges to be able to see Margaret, perhaps every day, perhaps for hours at a time?  Would it not be happiness enough to observe each development of her character, to watch her first maiden love for me, advancing nearer and nearer towards confidence and maturity the oftener we met?  As I thought on this, I answered Mr. Sherwin without further hesitation.