Stephen Walker was silent for a little time, and then said,
“I wish, Carry, I had known it before. I should have warned—no, not warned you, dear, but advised you against it before it was too late.
I do not like these long engagements, Carry. They seldom come to anything. I know the world better than you do, my child. I have not used my knowledge to much purpose as far as I myself am concerned, still I can see clearly enough in your case. I had rather it had been some young clerk, ay, Carry, or even an honest mechanic or small tradesman that had asked for you. Still, dear, I do not wish to blight your hopes, but do not build too much upon it; these things seldom come off.”
“Oh, father,” Carry said, “would you not like to see me a lady, in a house of my own, where you would always live with us, and have no more care and trouble? Oh, father, I have thought of that so much. And this, father, is quite, quite certain to come off.”
“Yes, my child, we always think so, and the disappointment is in proportion to the hope. No, Carry, a long engagement is always bad; but when the parties are in different stations of life the chances of its being broken off are tenfold. However, Carry, we will hope for the best. But be careful, my child, you know nothing of the world. Do not encourage him to be here too much. Neighbours will get to talk of it, and a good name is easily lost; and, although I know my little Carry too well not to be able to trust her as well, ay, and very much better, than myself, still, dear, you don't know the world and cannot be too careful. If you had only had a mother——”
And here Stephen Walker's warnings were put a stop to, for Carry's face, which had been bent down while he had been speaking, had become deadly white; her hand was pressed against her heart, and with a half sob, half cry, she leant forward; and her father, on stooping down, found that she was insensible. Very poignant were Stephen Walker's self-reproaches as he ran to get some water and endeavoured to bring her round.
“That is just like me,” he muttered to himself, “frightening the poor child, and telling her her love affair would come to nothing. As if I could not see that she worried enough about it without my making her worse. What an old fool I am, to be sure. And to think of her fainting, too—dear, dear.”