"Yes, papa--who else? Is he not good? Will you not love him? Oh,
papa, do not say that I am wrong to love him?"

He never told her his mistake, or explained to her that he had not
thought it possible that the high-placed son of the London great man
should have fallen in love with his undowered daughter; but he embraced
her, and told her, with all his enthusiasm, that he rejoiced in her
joy, and would be happy in her happiness. "My own Patty," he said, "I
have ever known that you were too good for this life of ours here."
And then the evening wore away into the night, with many tears, but
still with much happiness.

Captain Broughton, as he walked back to Oxney Combe, made up his mind
that he would say nothing on the matter to his aunt till the next
morning. He wanted to think over it all, and to think it over, if
possible, by himself. He had taken a step in life, the most important
that a man is ever called on to take, and he had to reflect whether or
no he had taken it with wisdom.

"Have you seen her?" said Miss Le Smyrger, very anxiously, when he came
into the drawing-room.

"Miss Woolsworthy you mean," said he. "Yes, I've seen her. As I found
her out, I took a long walk, and happened to meet her. Do you know,
aunt, I think I'll go to bed; I was up at five this morning, and have
been on the move ever since."

Miss Le Smyrger perceived that she was to hear nothing that evening, so
she handed him his candlestick and allowed him to go to his room.