The Clean Heart

by A. S. M. Hutchinson

Essie skipped. "Good gracious!" cried Essie. "Whyever?"

"I thought you might think it rather—sudden."

Essie laughed and skipped again. "Sudden! Why, you've bin long enough, goodness knows! Why, I've bin expecting you to ask me for weeks, you know!"

"Have you?" said Mr. Wriford.

"Think I have!" cried Essie. "Why, the lodger always does!"

"Oh!" said Mr. Wriford.

This time Essie seemed to detect something amiss in his tone. In a few paces she was bending forward as she walked and trying to read his face. "I say," said Essie, "you aren't in a crosspatch, are you?"

"Of course I'm not. Why should I be?"

"Sure I don't know. You wanted me to come, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. I shouldn't have asked you otherwise."