continued calmly, "If, in a word, I am to be a free agent in a choice on
which my happiness depends, forbear to urge Sir Miles further at present;
forbear to press your suit upon me. Give me the delay of a few months; I
shall know how to appreciate your delicacy."

"Miss Clavering," answered Vernon, with a touch of the St. John
haughtiness, "I am in despair that you should even think so grave an
appeal to my honour necessary. I am well aware of your expectations and
my poverty. And, believe me, I would rather rot in a prison than enrich
myself by forcing your inclinations. You have but to say the word, and I
will (as becomes me as a man and gentleman) screen you from all chance of
Sir Miles's displeasure, by taking it on myself to decline an honour of
which I feel, indeed, very undeserving."

"But I have offended you," said Lucretia, softly, while she turned aside
to conceal the glad light of her eyes,--"pardon me; and to prove that you
do so, give me your arm to my uncle's room."

Vernon, with rather more of Sir Miles's antiquated stiffness than his own
rakish ease, offered his arm, with a profound reverence, to his cousin,
and they took their way to the house. Not till they had passed up the
stairs, and were even in the gallery, did further words pass between
them. Then Vernon said,--

"But what is your wish, Miss Clavering? On what footing shall I remain
here?"

"Will you suffer me to dictate?" replied Lucretia, stopping short with
well-feigned confusion, as if suddenly aware that the right to dictate
gives the right to hope.