"You are right to come back," he said, "you should not have left me so."
"I am very sorry," she said again.
"Well, then--you tell me that Mr. Robin has nowhere else to go."
She flushed a little.
"He has ten places to go to. He has plenty of friends. But none have the
right that we have. He is a neighbour; it was to me, first of all, that
he told the trouble."
Then he remembered.
"Sit down," he said. "I must understand much better first. I do not
understand why he came to you first. Why not, if he must come to this
house at all--why not to me? I like the lad; he knows that well enough."
He spoke with an admirable dignity, and began to feel more happy in
consequence.
She had sat down as he told her, on the other side of the table; but he
could not see her face.
"It would have been better if he had, perhaps," she said. "But--"
"Yes? What 'But' is that?"
Then she faced him, and her eyes were swimming.
"Father, he told me first because he loves me, and because I love him."
He sat up. This was speaking outright what she had only hinted at
before. She must have been gathering her resolution to say this, while
she had been gone. Perhaps she had been with her mother. In that case he
must be cautious....
"You mean--"
"I mean just what I say. We love one another, and I am willing to be his
wife if he desires it--and with your permission. But--"
He waited for her to go on.
"Another 'But'!" he said presently, though with increasing mildness.
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