'what's the use? You seem to be convinced that there isn't a single
good quality in her.'

'So I am. What I want to know is, what good _you_ have found.'

'A great deal, else I shouldn't have asked her to marry me.'

A vein of stubbornness, unmistakable inheritance from Stephen Lord,
had begun to appear in the youth's speech and bearing. He kept his
head bent, and moved it a little from side to side.

'Do you think her an exception in the family, then?'

'She's a great deal better in every way than her sisters. But I
don't think as badly of them as you do.'

Mr. Lord stepped to the door, and out into the passage, where he
shouted in his deep voice 'Nancy!' The girl quickly appeared.

'Shut the door, please,' said her father. All three were now
standing about the room. 'Your brother has brought me a piece of
news. It ought to interest you, I should think. He wants to marry,
and out of all the world, he has chosen Miss. French--the
youngest.' Horace's position was trying. He did not know what to do
with his hands, and he kept balancing now on one foot, now on the
other. Nancy had her eyes averted from him, but she met her father's
look gravely.

'Now, I want to ask you,' Mr. Lord proceeded, 'whether you consider
Miss. French a suitable wife for your brother? Just give me a plain