A Charming Fellow Volume Iii Part 13

He clasped his arms round her with a sudden impetuous movement, but she held him off with her two hands on his shoulders. "No, but please listen! I did love somebody else once very much. Of course we were very young, and it was nonsense. But I did wrong in being secret, and keeping it from father. And I never want to be secret any more. And--though I do like you very much, and--and--I should be very sorry if you went away--yet it isn't quite the same that I felt before. That is the truth as well as I can say it, and I am very grateful to you for thinking so well of me."

He drew the young head with its soft shining chestnut curls down on to his breast, and pressed his lips to her cheek.

"Now you are mine, my very own--are you not, Rhoda?"

"Yes; if you like, Mr. Diamond."

Matthew Diamond had been successful in his wooing, after feeling very doubtful of success. And he should naturally have been elated in proportion to his previous trepidation. And he was happy, of course; yet scarcely with the fulness of joyful triumph he had promised himself if pretty Rhoda should incline her ear to his suit. There was a subtle flavour of disappointment in it all. Rhoda had behaved very well, very honestly, in making that effort to be quite clear and candid about her feelings. It was a great thing to be able to feel perfect confidence in the woman who was to be his companion for life. And as to her loving him with the same fervour he felt towards her, that was not to be expected.

He never had expected that. She was gentle, sweet, modest, thoroughly feminine, and exquisitely pretty. She was willing to give herself to him, and would doubtless be a true and affectionate wife. He held her slight waist in his arm, and her head rested confidingly on his bosom.

Of course he was very happy. Only--if only Rhoda were not quite so silent and cold; if she would say one little word of tenderness, or even nestle herself fondly against his shoulder without speaking!

Some such thoughts were vaguely flitting through Diamond's mind when Rhoda raised her head, and, emboldened by the gathering dusk, looked up into his face and said, "You know it cannot be unless father consents."

"I shall speak to him this evening. Do you think he will be stern and hard to persuade, Rhoda?"

"I don't know. He said once that he would like to--to--that he would like to know I had some one to take care of me."

"On that score I am not afraid of falling short. Your father could give his treasure to no man who would take more loving care of her than I!"

"And then you are a gentleman; and father thinks a great deal of that, although he makes no pretence at being anything more than a tradesman himself. And of course I am only a tradesman's daughter. I am greatly below you in station--I know that."

"My Rhoda! As if there could be any question of that between us! G.o.d knows I have been poor and obscure enough all my life. But now I shall be able to tell your father that I hope to have a home to offer you that will be at least not sordid, and the position of a lady."

"I hope you won't repent, Mr. Diamond."

"Repent! But, Rhoda, won't you call me by my name? Say Matthew, not Mr.

Diamond."

"Yes; I will if you like. But I'm afraid I can't all at once. It seems so strange."

"I wish you liked my name one thousandth part as much as I love the sound of yours! It seems so sweet to be able to call you Rhoda."

"Oh, I like your name very much indeed. But I think, please, that you had better go now. The people are coming out of church, and Aunt Betty may be back at any moment; and I don't wish her to find you here before you have spoken to father."

Rhoda stood up as she said it, and Diamond had no choice but to rise too, and say farewell. He drew her gently towards him and kissed her.

"Will you try to love me, Rhoda?" he said, in a tone of almost sad entreaty. "Do you think you shall be able to love me a little?"

"I should not have accepted you if I felt that I could never be fond of you," returned Rhoda, and a little flush spread itself over her face as she spoke. "But you know I have told you the truth. I have told you about----"

He put up his hand to check her. "Yes, yes; you have been quite candid and honourable, and I won't be exacting or unreasonable, or too impatient." He did not think he could endure to hear Rhoda, in her anxiety not to deceive him, recapitulate the confession of her "different feeling" for another man in days past; and yet he had known, or guessed, that it had been so.

Then he took his leave, an accepted lover; and he told himself that he was a very fortunate and happy man. As he pa.s.sed the door of old Max's little parlour downstairs, he saw a light gleaming under the door into the almost dark pa.s.sage. He stopped and tapped at the door. "Come in,"

said Jonathan Maxfield's harsh voice. And Diamond went into the parlour.

CHAPTER XI.

Old Max looked up at his visitor over the great tortoise-sh.e.l.l spectacles on his nose. He had a large Bible open on the table before him. The large Bible was placed there every evening, and on Sunday evenings any other mundane volume which might chance to be lying in the parlour was carefully removed out of sight, to be restored to the light of day on Monday morning. This was the custom of the house, and had been so for years. It had obtained all through the Methodist days, and now lasted under the new orthodox dispensation. Since old Max had his spectacles on, it was to be supposed that he had been reading, and, since there was no other printed doc.u.ment within sight, not even an almanac, it was clear that he could have been reading nothing but his Bible. And yet it was nearly an hour since he had turned the page before him. He had been dozing, sitting up in his chair by the fire. This had latterly become a habit with him whenever he was left alone in the evening. And once, even, he had fallen into a sleep, or a stupor, in the midst of the a.s.sembled family, and, on awaking, had been lethargic in his movements, and dazed in his manner for some time.

He was quite awake now, however, as he peered sharply at Diamond over his gla.s.ses. The latter found some little difficulty in beginning his communication, not being a.s.sisted by a word from old Max, who stared at him silently.

"I have a few words to say to you, Mr. Maxfield, if you are at leisure to hear them," he said at length.

"If it's anything in the natur' of a business communication, I can't attend to it now," returned old Max deliberately. "It has been a rule of mine through life to transact no manner of business on the Lord's day, and I have found it prosper with me."

"No, no; it is not a matter of business, Mr. Maxfield," said Diamond smiling, but not quite at his ease. Then he sat down and told his errand. Maxfield listened in perfect silence. "May I hope, Mr. Maxfield, that you will give us your consent and approbation?" asked Diamond, after a pause.

"You're pretty glib, sir! I must know a little more about this matter before I can give an answer one way or another."

"You shall know all that I can tell you, Mr. Maxfield. Indeed, I do not see what more I have to say. I have explained to you what my prospects in life are. I have told you every particular with the most absolute fulness and candour. As to my feeling for your daughter, I don't think I could fully express that if I talked to you all night."

"What did my daughter say to you?"

"She--she told me that she was willing to be my wife, but that it must depend upon your consent."

"Rhoda has always been a very dutiful daughter. There's not many like Rhoda."

"I appreciate her, Mr. Maxfield. You may believe that I do most heartily appreciate her. I have long known that all my happiness depended on winning Rhoda for my wife. I have loved her long. But, of course, I could not venture to ask her to marry me, or to ask you to give her to me, until I had some prospect of a home to offer her."

"Ah! And this prospect, now--you aren't sure about it?"

"No; I am not quite sure."

"And, supposing you don't get the place--how then?"

"Why, then, Mr. Maxfield, I should look for another. If you will give your consent to my engagement to Rhoda, I am not afraid of not finding a place in the world for her. I have a fair share of resolution; I am industrious and well educated; I am not quite thirty years old. If you will give me a word of encouragement I shall be sure to succeed."

"Head-master of Dorrington Proprietary School, eh? Will that be a place like Dr. Bodkin's?"

"Something of that kind, only not so lucrative."

"Dr. Bodkin is thought a good deal of in Whitford."

"Mr. Maxfield, may I hope for a favourable answer from you before I go?"

Old Max struck his hand sharply on the table as he exclaimed, almost with a snarl, "I will not be hurried, sir! nor made to speak rashly and without duly pondering and meditating my words." Then he added, in a different tone, "You are glib, sir! mighty glib! Do you know what Miss Maxfield will have to her portion--if I choose to give it her?"

"No, Mr. Maxfield, I do not. Nor do I care to know. I would take her to my heart to-morrow if she would come, although she were the poorest beggar in the world!"

"And would you take her without my consent?"

"I would, if you had no reasonable grounds for withholding it."

"You would steal my daughter away without my consent?"