"Father," repeated Isabella, "I will consent to this marriage."
"No, my child, no--not now at least--we will humble ourselves to obtain
delay from him; and yet, Isabella, could you overcome a dislike
which has no real foundation, think, in other respects, what a
match!--wealth--rank--importance."
"Father!" reiterated Isabella, "I have consented."
It seemed as if she had lost the power of saying anything else, or even
of varying the phrase which, with such effort, she had compelled herself
to utter.
"Heaven bless thee, my child!--Heaven bless thee!--And it WILL bless
thee with riches, with pleasure, with power."
Miss Vere faintly entreated to be left by herself for the rest of the
evening.
"But will you not receive Sir Frederick?" said her father, anxiously.
"I will meet him," she replied, "I will meet him--when I must, and where
I must; but spare me now."
"Be it so, my dearest; you shall know no restraint that I can save
you from. Do not think too hardly of Sir Frederick for this,--it is an
excess of passion.
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