It was afforded by a remark of Sir Henry's.
"After our sojourn in London shall be over, I must look out for a
residence, and settle down. Perhaps I shall purchase one. But I must
first of all ascertain what locality would be agreeable to Lucy."
"Sir Henry," said Lionel in a low tone, "Lucy's future residence is
fixed upon--if you will accord your permission."
Sir Henry Tempest, who was in the act of raising his wine-glass to his
lips, set it down again and looked at Lionel.
"I want her at Verner's Pride."
It appeared that Sir Henry could not understand--did not take in the
meaning of the words.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I have loved her for years," answered Lionel, the, scarlet spot of
emotion rising to his cheeks. "We--we have known each other's sentiments
a long while. But I did not intend to speak more openly to Lucy until I
had seen you. To-day, however, in the sudden excitement of hearing of
her contemplated departure, I betrayed myself. Will you give her to me,
Sir Henry?"
Sir Henry Tempest looked grave. "It cannot have been so very long an
attachment," he observed.
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