“Do you wish me to stay a little longer?” asked Mrs. Major, trembling.
“That is my wish. Continue to prosecute your search.”
Trembling yet more violently Mrs. Major said: “I will stay. I had not dared to suppose I might stop more than two days. I brought nothing with me. May I go to London to get clothes? I will return to-morrow morning.”
“Why not to-night?”
“Early to-morrow would be more convenient. I have other things to do in London.”
“To-morrow, then,” Mr. Marrapit agreed.
At the door Mrs. Major turned. Her great success at this interview emboldened her to a second stroke. “There is one other thing I would like to say, if I dared.”
“Be fearless.”
She plunged. “If Heaven should grant that I may find the Rose, I implore you not to distress me by offering me the reward you are holding out. I could not take it. I know you can ill afford it. Further than that, to have the joy of giving you back your Rose would be reward enough for me. And to know that she was safe with you, though I—I should never see her again, that would make me happy till the end of my days.”
Her nobility smote Mr. Marrapit. Cruelly, shamefully, he had misjudged her. Her handkerchief pressed to her eyes, very gently Mrs. Major closed the door; very soberly mounted the stairs.