With all the fervour of my heart I prayed that, on this occasion, his pride might not in any way be touched, or arrayed against me.
When I saw him I went straight towards him, and held out my hand. He seemed a little surprised, but took it. Like Bob Acres, I felt my courage oozing out of the tips of my fingers, but with the remnant of it threw myself into the battle:—
"Mr. Joyce, I have come to speak to you on a very serious subject."
"A sarious subject! Is it concarnin' me?"
"It is."
"Go on! More throuble, I suppose?"
"I hope not, most sincerely. Mr. Joyce, I want to have your permission to marry your daughter!" If I had suddenly turned into a bird and flown away, I do not think I could have astonished him more. For a second or two he was speechless, and then said, in an unconscious sort of way:—
"Want to marry me daughter!"
"Yes, Mr. Joyce! I love her very dearly! She is a pearl amongst women; and if you will give your permission, I shall be the happiest man on earth. I can quite satisfy you as to my means. I am well to do; indeed, as men go, I am a rich man."
"Aye! sir, I don't doubt. I'm contint that you are what you say. But you never saw me daughter—except that dark night when you took me home."
"Oh yes, I have seen her several times, and spoken
