ter of this
marriage proposal as forward; though I have admitted that it scarce
looked so, so graceful and womanlike was her manner of carrying it
off, which had in it nothing worse than the privileged air of a
spoiled beauty. Now that writing of it has set me thinking of it, I
see that 'twas a more natural act than it appears in the cold recital.
For years she had been our queen, and Phil and I her humble subjects,
and the making of the overtures appeared as proper in her, as it would
have seemed presumption in either of us. And over Phil, from that
bygone day when she had gone across the street to his rescue, she had
assumed an air of authority, nay of proprietorship, that bade him wait
upon her will ere ever he acted or spoke. And, again, though out of
consideration for his rival he had been purposely silent while
awaiting a sign from her, she had read his heart from the first. His
every look and tone for years had been an unconscious act of wooing,
and so when she brought matters to a point as she did, 'twas on her
part not so much an overture as a consent. As for marriage proposal in
general, all men with whom I have discussed it have confessed their
own scenes thereof to have been, in the mere words, quite simple and
unpoetical, whether enacted in confusion or in confidence; and to have
been such as would not read at all finely in books.

The less easy ordeal awaited Philip, of asking her father. But he was
glad this stood yet in his way, and that 'twas not easy; for 'twould
make upon his courage that demand which every man's courage ought to
undergo in such an affair, and which Margaret's conduct had precluded
in his coming to an understanding with her.

But however disquieting the task was to approach, it could be only
successful at the end; for indeed Mr. Faringfield, with all his
external frigidity, could refuse Phil nothing. In giving his consent,
which perhaps he had been ready to do long before Phil had been ready
to ask it, he made no allusion to Phil's going to England. He
purposely ignored the circumstance, I fancy, that in consenting to the
marriage, he knowingly opened the way for his daughter's visiting that
hated country. Doubtless the late conduct of Ned, and the intended
defection of Philip, amicable though that defection was, had shaken
him in his resolution of imposing his avoidance of England upon his
family. He resigned himself to the inevitable; but he grew more
taciturn, sank deeper into hi