aunt was out of the way, and he had got papa all to himself, and then he
began it in that horrible, downright voice of his--'Graybrooke! how much
longer am I to wait?'"

"Did he say that?"

"No more swearing, Launce! Those were the words. Papa didn't understand
them. He only said (poor dear!)--'Bless my soul, Richard, what do you
want?' Richard soon explained himself. 'Who could he be waiting for--but
Me?' Papa said something about my being so young. Richard stopped his
mouth directly. 'Girls were like fruit; some ripened soon, and some
ripened late. Some were women at twenty, and some were women at sixteen.
It was impossible to look at me, and not see that I was like a new being
after my two months at sea,' and so on and so on. Papa behaved like an
angel. He still tried to put it off. 'Plenty of time, Richard, plenty
of time.' 'Plenty of time for _her_' (was the wretch's answer to that);
'but not for _me_. Think of all I have to offer her' (as if I cared for
his money!); 'think how long I have looked upon her as growing up to
be my wife' (growing up for _him_--monstrous!), 'and don't keep me in
a state of uncertainty, which it gets harder and harder for a man in my
position to endure!' He was really quite eloquent. His voice trembled.
There is no doubt, dear, that he is very, very fond of me."

"And you feel flattered by it, of course?"

"Don't talk nonsense. I feel a little frightened at it, I can tell you."

"Frightened? Did _you_ notice him this morning?"

"I? When?"