y he had a reason for it.
On reaching the vestibule he found Harold and Ida standing side by
side as though they were being drilled. It was impossible to resist
the conclusion that they had suddenly assumed that attitude because it
happened to be the first position into which they could conveniently
fall.
There was a moment's silence, then Harold took Ida's hand and led her
up to where her father was standing.
"Mr. de la Molle," he said simply, "once more I ask you for your
daughter in marriage. I am quite aware of my many disqualifications,
especially those of my age and the smallness of my means; but Ida and
myself hope and believe that under all the circumstances you will no
longer withhold your consent," and he paused.
"Quaritch," answered the Squire, "I have already in your presence told
Mr. Cossey under what circumstances I was favourably inclined to his
proposal, so I need not repeat all that. As regards your means,
although they would have been quite insufficient to avert the ruin
which threatened us, still you have, I believe, a competence, and
owing to your wonderful and most providential discovery the fear of
ruin seems to have passed away. It is owing to you that this
discovery, which by the way I want to hear all about, has been made;
had it not been for you it never would have been made at all, and
therefore I certainly have no right to say anything more about your
means. As to your age, well, after all forty-four is not the limit of
life, and if Ida does not object to marrying a man of those years, I
cannot object to her doing so. With reference to your want of
occupation, I think that if you marry Ida this place will, as times
are, keep your hands pretty full, especially when you have an
obstinate donkey like that fellow George to deal with. I am getting
too old and stupid to look after it myself, and besides things are so
topsy-turvy that I can't understand them. There is one thing more that
I want to say: I forbade you the house. Well, you are a generous-
minded man, and it is human to err, so I think that perhaps you will
understand my action and not bear me a grudge on that account. Also, I
dare say that at the time, and possibly at other times, I said things
I should be sorry for if I could remember what they were, which I
can't, and if so, I apologise to you as a gentleman ought when he
finds himself in the wrong. And so I say God bless you both, and I
hope you will be happy in life togeth
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