Part 28 (2/2)
”Certainly I have.”
”You know very well that your father and I will never consent to it.”
”Never is a long day, mamma.”
”Don't take up my words like that. I consider, Beatrice, that you have deceived me shamefully. You persuaded me to ask that young man to the house because you said that Sophy Macpherson was fond of him.”
”So she is.”
”Beatrice, how can you be so wicked and tell such lies in the face of that letter to yourself?”
”I never said he was fond of her,” she answered, with just the vestige of a twinkle in her eyes.
”If I had known, I would never have asked him to come,” continued her mother.
”No; I am sure you would not. But I did not tell you, mamma.”
”I have other views for you. You must write to this young man and tell him you will give him up.”
”I certainly shall not do that.”
”I shall not give my consent to your engagement.”
”I never imagined that you would, mamma, and that is why I did not ask for it.”
And then Mrs. Miller got very angry indeed.
”What on earth do you intend to do, you ungrateful, disobedient, rebellious child?”
”I mean to marry Herbert some day because I love him,” answered her daughter, coolly; ”but I will not run away with him unless you force me to it; and I hope, by-and-by, when Geraldine is grown up and can take my place, that you will give us your consent and your blessing. I am quite willing to wait a reasonable time for the chance of it.”
”Is it likely that I shall give my consent to your marrying a young man picked up n.o.body knows where--out of the gutter, most likely? Who are his people, I should like to know?”
”I daresay his father is as well connected as mine,” answered Beatrice, who knew all about her mother's having married a _parvenu_.
”Beatrice, I am ashamed of you, sneering at your own father!”
”I beg your pardon, mamma; I did not mean to sneer, but you say very trying things; and Mr. Pryme is a gentleman, and every bit as good as we are!”
”And where is the money to be found for this precious marriage, I should like to know? Do you suppose Mr. Pryme can support you?”
”Oh dear, no; but I know papa will not let me starve.”
And Mrs. Miller knew it too. However angry she might be, and however unsuitably Beatrice might choose to marry, Mr. Miller would never allow his daughter to be insufficiently provided for. Beatrice's marriage portion would be a small fortune to a poor young man.
”It is your money he is after!” she said, angrily.
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