Charlotte at last took hold of her sister. She laid her two hands upon Gertrude's arm. "He cares so much for you," she almost whispered.
Gertrude looked at her intently an instant; then kissed her.
"No, he does not," she said.
"I have never seen you so passionate," observed Mr. Wentworth, with an air of indignation mitigated by high principles.
"I am sorry if I offend you," said Gertrude.
"You offend me, but I don't think you are sorry."
"Yes, father, she is sorry," said Charlotte.
"I would even go further, dear uncle," Felix interposed.
"I would question whether she really offends you.
How can she offend you?"
To this Mr. Wentworth made no immediate answer. Then, in a moment, "She has not profited as we hoped."
"Profited? Ah voila!" Felix exclaimed.
Gertrude was very pale; she stood looking down. "I have told Felix I would go away with him," she presently said.
"Ah, you have said some admirable things!" cried the young man.
"Go away, sister?" asked Charlotte.
"Away--away; to some strange country."
"That is to frighten you," said Felix, smiling at Charlotte.
"To--what do you call it?" asked Gertrude, turning an instant to Felix. "To Bohemia."
"Do you propose to dispense with preliminaries?" asked Mr. Wentworth, getting up.
"Dear uncle, vous plaisantez!" cried Felix. "It seems to me that these are preliminaries."
Gertrude turned to her father. "I have profited," she said.
"You wanted to form my character. Well, my character is formed--for my age. I know what I want; I have chosen.
I am determined to marry this gentleman."
"You had better consent, sir," said Felix very gently.
"Yes, sir, you had better consent," added a very different voice.
Charlotte gave a little jump, and the others turned to the direction from which it had come. It was the voice of Mr. Brand, who had stepped through the long window which stood open to the piazza.
He stood patting his forehead with his pocket-handkerchief; he was very much flushed; his face wore a singular expression.
"Yes, sir, you had better consent," Mr. Brand repeated, coming forward.
"I know what Miss Gertrude means."
"My dear friend!" murmured Felix, laying his hand caressingly on the young minister's arm.
Mr. Brand looked at him; then at Mr. Wentworth; lastly at Gertrude.
He did not look at Charlotte. But Charlotte's earnest eyes were fastened to his own countenance; they were asking an immense question of it.
The answer to this question could not come all at once; but some of the elements of it were there. It was one of the elements of it that Mr. Brand was very red, that he held his head very high, that he had a bright, excited eye and an air of embarrassed boldness--the air of a man who has taken a resolve, in the execution of which he apprehends the failure, not of his moral, but of his personal, resources. Charlotte thought he looked very grand; and it is incontestable that Mr. Brand felt very grand. This, in fact, was the grandest moment of his life; and it was natural that such a moment should contain opportunities of awkwardness for a large, stout, modest young man.
"Come in, sir," said Mr. Wentworth, with an angular wave of his hand.
"It is very proper that you should be present."
"I know what you are talking about," Mr. Brand rejoined.
"I heard what your nephew said."
"And he heard what you said!" exclaimed Felix, patting him again on the arm.
"I am not sure that I understood," said Mr. Wentworth, who had angularity in his voice as well as in his gestures.
Gertrude had been looking hard at her former suitor.
She had been puzzled, like her sister; but her imagination moved more quickly than Charlotte's. "Mr. Brand asked you to let Felix take me away," she said to her father.
The young minister gave her a strange look. "It is not because I don't want to see you any more," he declared, in a tone intended as it were for publicity.
"I should n't think you would want to see me any more,"
Gertrude answered, gently.
Mr. Wentworth stood staring. "Is n't this rather a change, sir?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir." And Mr. Brand looked anywhere; only still not at Charlotte.
"Yes, sir," he repeated. And he held his handkerchief a few moments to his lips.
"Where are our moral grounds?" demanded Mr. Wentworth, who had always thought Mr. Brand would be just the thing for a younger daughter with a peculiar temperament.
"It is sometimes very moral to change, you know," suggested Felix.
Charlotte had softly left her sister's side. She had edged gently toward her father, and now her hand found its way into his arm.
Mr. Wentworth had folded up the "Advertiser" into a surprisingly small compass, and, holding the roll with one hand, he earnestly clasped it with the other. Mr. Brand was looking at him; and yet, though Charlotte was so near, his eyes failed to meet her own.
Gertrude watched her sister.
"It is better not to speak of change," said Mr. Brand.
"In one sense there is no change. There was something I desired--something I asked of you; I desire something still--I ask it of you."
And he paused a moment; Mr. Wentworth looked bewildered.
"I should like, in my ministerial capacity, to unite this young couple."
Gertrude, watching her sister, saw Charlotte flushing intensely, and Mr. Wentworth felt her pressing upon his arm. "Heavenly Powers!" murmured Mr. Wentworth. And it was the nearest approach to profanity he had ever made.
"That is very nice; that is very handsome!" Felix exclaimed.
"I don't understand," said Mr. Wentworth; though it was plain that every one else did.
"That is very beautiful, Mr. Brand," said Gertrude, emulating Felix.
"I should like to marry you. It will give me great pleasure."
"As Gertrude says, it 's a beautiful idea," said Felix.
Felix was smiling, but Mr. Brand was not even trying to.
He himself treated his proposition very seriously.
"I have thought of it, and I should like to do it," he affirmed.
Charlotte, meanwhile, was staring with expanded eyes.
Her imagination, as I have said, was not so rapid as her sister's, but now it had taken several little jumps.
