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Page 25
Nevill's usual self-possession seemed to have deserted him, and as he
went on with his revelation he spoke in jerky sentences, with some
confusion and embarrassment.
"That's all there is about it," he wound up, aggressively.
"All?" cried Stephen Foster.
He got up and walked nervously to the window. Then he turned back and
confronted Nevill; there was a look on his face that was not pleasant to
see, as if he had aged suddenly.
"Is this a jest, or are you serious?" he demanded, coldly. "Do I
understand that you love my daughter?--that you wish to marry her?"
"I have told you so plainly. You must have known that I loved her--you
cannot have been blind to that fact all this time."
"I have been worse than blind, Nevill, I fear. Have you spoken to Madge?"
"No; I never had a chance."
"Do you consider yourself a suitable husband for her?"
"Why not?" Nevill asked; he was cool and composed now. "If you are good
enough to be her father, am I not worthy to be her husband?"
"Don't say that," Stephen Foster answered. "You are insolent--you forget
to whom you are speaking. Whatever our relations have been and are,
whatever sort of man I am at my desk or my ledgers, I am another person
at home. Sneer if you like, it is true. I love my daughter--the child of
my dead wife. She does not know what I do in town--you are aware of
that--and God forbid that she ever does learn. I want to keep her in
ignorance--to guard her young life and secure her future happiness. And
_you_ want to marry her!"
"I do," replied Nevill, trying to speak pleasantly.
"How will you explain the deception--the fact that you have been coming
here under a false name?"
"I will get around that all right. It was your suggestion, you remember,
not mine, that I should take the name of Royle. Look here, Foster, I
know there is some reason in what you say--I respect your motives. But
you misunderstand and misjudge me. I love the girl with all my heart,
with a true, pure and lasting affection. I might choose a wife in higher
places, but Madge has enslaved me with her sweet face and charming
disposition. As for our relations--you know what poverty drove me to.
Given a secure income, and I should never have stooped to dishonor. The
need of money stifled the best that was in my nature. It is not too late
to reform, though. I don't mean now, but when I come into my uncle's
fortune, which is a sure thing. Then, I promise you, I will be as
straight as you could wish your daughter's husband to be. Believe me,
I am sincere. No man could offer Madge a deeper affection."
There was no doubt that Victor Nevill spoke the truth, for once in his
life; he loved Madge with a passion that dominated him, and he knew his
own unworthiness. Stephen Foster paced the floor with a haggard face,
with knitted brows.
"It is impossible," he said to himself. "I would rather see her married
to some poor but honest clerk." He lighted a cigar and bit it savagely.
"What if I refuse?" he added aloud.
A dangerous light flashed in Nevill's eyes.
"I won't give her up," he replied; and in the words there was a hidden
menace which Stephen Foster understood.
"Give her up?" he echoed. "You have not won her yet."
"I know that, but I hope to succeed."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"All in your power. Give me a fair show."
"The girl shan't be bullied or browbeaten--I won't force her into such a
step against her wishes. If she marries you, it will be of her own free
will."
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