"Very well," said Kit, standing very straight and holding up his head. "I met Miss Osborn, so to speak, by accident, and afterwards we sometimes talked. Her beauty and talent were plain to me at first, but it was some time before I knew I loved her, and then it was too late. I knew my folly--it was a folly I couldn't conquer, and now I think I never shall. Well, I suppose I hoped that some day things might change."
"Do you imply that Grace knew what you hoped?" Osborn asked.
"No," said Kit, quietly. "I gave her no hint. It was plain that she was willing we should meet and talk like friends. This was not wrong."
"Not wrong that my daughter should meet you secretly!" Osborn exclaimed with sudden rage. "Are you foolish enough to imagine you and a member of my family could meet like equals?"
"I have not pretended to be Miss Osborn's equal. But the inequality I acknowledge is not what you mean."
Osborn shrugged with scornful impatience. "Pshaw! We'll let that go. You said you hoped things might change. Do you think any change of fortune could give you the tastes and feelings of a gentleman? Make you a proper husband for my daughter? You know the thing's impossible."
Kit colored and hesitated, and Peter signed him to be quiet.
"These meetings must be stopped. I'm as much against such a match as I think you are."
"Ah," said Osborn, who looked puzzled, "you hinted something of the kind! I don't know that your point of view's important, but I can't understand."
"My meaning's no varra hard to see," Peter answered. "The lass is bonny and, so far as I ken, weel-meaning and kind; but she has been badly browt up at an extravagant hoose. She'll not can help her husband, except mayhappen to waste, and she has niver learned to work and gan withoot. Weel, it seems we are agreed. Miss Osborn is no the lass I would welcome for my son's wife."
Osborn looked at him with frank surprise. Then he said, "We'll make an end," and turned to Kit. "If you speak to my daughter again, she will be forbidden to leave the Tarnside grounds; if you write to her, your letter will be burned. She cannot resist my control for the next three or four years. There's nothing more to be said."
He went out and Peter, who walked to the porch with him, came back and looked quietly at Kit.