“You need not give me an answer at once,” he replied; “you can think of it.” As she did not immediately say anything, he presumed that she assented to this proposition. “You won’t wonder now,” he said, “that I wished you to stay here, or that my mother wished it.”

“Does Lady Ball know?” she asked.

“Yes, my mother does know.”

“What am I to say to her?”

“Shall I tell you, Margaret, what to say? Put your arms round her neck, and tell her that you will be her daughter.”

“No, John; I cannot do that; and perhaps I ought to say now that I don’t think it will ever be possible. It has all so surprised me, that I haven’t known how to speak; and I am afraid I shall be letting you go from me with a false idea. Perhaps I ought to say at once that it cannot be.”

“No, Margaret, no. It is much better that you should think of it. No harm can come of that.”

“There will be harm if you are disappointed.”

“I certainly shall be disappointed if you decide against me; but not more violently so, if you do it next week than if you do it now. But I do hope that you will not decide against me.”

“And what am I to do?”

“You can write to me from Littlebath.”

“And how soon must I write?”

“As soon as you can make up your mind. But, Margaret, do not decide against me too quickly. I do not know that I shall do myself any good by promising you that I will love you tenderly.” So saying he put out his hand, and she took it; and they stood there looking into each other’s eyes, as young lovers might have done,—as his son might have looked into those of her daughter, had she been married young and had children of her own. In the teeth of all those tedious money dealings in the City there was some spice of romance left within his bosom yet!

But how was she to get herself out of the room? It would not do for such a Juliet to stay all the night looking into the eyes of her ancient Romeo. And how was she to behave herself to Lady Ball, when she should again find herself in the drawing-room, conscious as she was that Lady Ball knew all about it? And how was she to conduct herself before all those young people whom she had left there? And her proposed father-in-law, whom she feared so much, and in truth disliked so greatly—would he know all about it, and thrust his ill-natured jokes at her? Her lover should have opened the door for her to pass through; but instead of doing so, as soon as she had withdrawn her hand from his, he placed himself on the rug, and leaned back in silence against the chimney-piece.

“I suppose it wouldn’t do,” she said, “for me to go off to bed without seeing them.”