Matson had been to her bedside,
hearing from her that her head was aching badly, and that she
would sleep longer. This message was carried down to Richard, who
entertained his guests as best he could, but did not urge them to
make a longer stay.
They were gone now, and Richard was alone. It was a favorable
opportunity for telling Victor of his engagement, and summoning
the latter to his presence, he bade him sit down, himself
hesitating, stammering and blushing like a woman, as he tried to
speak of Edith. Victor might have helped him, but he would not, as
he sat, rather enjoying his master's confusion, until the latter
said, abruptly,
"Victor, how would you like to have a mistress here--a bona fide
one, I mean, such as my wife would be?"
"That depends something upon who it was," Victor exclaimed, as if
this were the first intimation he had received of it.
"What would you say to Edith?" Richard continued, and Victor
replied with well-feigned surprise, "Miss Hastings! You would not
ask that little girl to be your wife! Why you are twenty-five
years her senior.
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