"
"There is M. Lenoble."
"Yes, there is M. Lenoble; the man who would have given me a home for my
old age: he told me so to-day--a home fit for a gentleman--for the
position he now occupies is nothing compared to that which he may occupy
a year hence. He would have received me as his father-in-law, without
thought or question of my antecedents; and if I have not lived like a
gentleman, I might have died like one. This is what he would have done
for me. But do you think I can ask anything of him now, after you have
refused him? I know of your refusal to be that man's wife. I heard--I saw
it in his face. You--a beggar, a friendless wretch, dependent on the
patronage of a stockbroker's silly wife--_you_ must needs give yourself
grand airs, and refuse such a man as that! Do you think such men go
begging among young ladies like you, or that they run about the streets,
like the roast pigs in the story, begad, with knives and forks in their
backs, asking to be eaten?"
The Captain was walking up and down the room in a fever of rage. Diana
looked at him with sad wondering eyes. Yes, it was the old selfish
nature. The leopard cannot change his spots; and the Horatio Paget of the
present was the Horatio Paget of the past.
"Pray don't be angry with me, papa," said Diana sorrowfully; "I believe
that I have done my duty."
"Done your fiddlesticks!" cried the Captain, too angry to be careful of
his diction.
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