"It is a very small thing," she repeated deprecatingly. "It is only that I want you to persuade my father that my husband is a good man and an honest one. That was why I showed you the preacher's letter; that was why I tried to prove to you that he is, as you say, disinterested. It does not in the least matter what the world in general thinks. I don't care! it's not worth minding," said Meg proudly; "but I do care--I can't help it--I do care about my father. I shall never see him again, I suppose, and I cannot even send him my love, because perhaps he may not want it," she cried, trying to swallow the inconvenient lump in her throat. "I shall never be able to explain everything to him; but tell him, you who have seen me, that Barnabas is good to me; don't let him be unhappy for me; don't let him fancy anything else. You think this isn't necessary, perhaps, but I know father. He is so tender-hearted even when people don't deserve it. He will try not to think about me oftener than can be helped, and he has plenty of other interests. That was always the difference between us: he had plenty of interests, but I had only him. But, sometimes, he will suddenly remember, and then he will be sad; though my aunt will tell him I am not worth it. When father is sad, he is very sad," said the daughter who was most like him.
"Tell him, then, what I have told you. Do you understand?"
"And you will do it?" she entreated. She smiled again, but with eyes that were full of tears; and the April expression reminded him of the little girl who was always so easily moved to pleasure or pain.
"I'll make a bargain with you," said he. "I'll swear anything on earth to your father, if you will tell _me_ the truth. My curiosity is--is excessive, I admit; but I was always curious, and you must allow that you gave your old acquaintance scope for conjecture. Tell me--are you happy, or not?" He twirled his eyeglass rapidly, and looked hard at her. "Has the venture been a success?"
Meg drew her breath quickly, and turned her head away.
"It is not fair," she said. "If any one had asked _me_ to do for him so small and natural a service, I should not have bargained."
It was odd how this man always jarred on her when she felt most friendly towards him. She had been pleased that he had taken the trouble to seek her out, and to give her the details about her old uncle; but his over-eagerness offended her.