"Yes, Mother."
"Take each other's hands, then. In God's name, Amen."
Jacob Worse was much affected. He tried to say a few words about being a father to her, but when he reached the middle of the sentence, it struck him that it was not appropriate. When he essayed to utter something more suitable, there was no sense in it.
He therefore squeezed the hand of Madame Torvestad somewhat severely; and then, taking that of his betrothed more tenderly, was pleased to find how soft and delicate it was.
He comported himself very awkwardly all the evening; but he was so thoroughly happy, that he never noticed the expression of Sarah's pale face.
When he returned to his own house, he paced up and down in ecstasy. It was Tuesday—only four days to Sunday. He must put his house to rights; it was not half smart enough.
When he had left, madame sent Henrietta to bed; Sarah would have gone also, but her mother detained her.
"You should thank God for all His loving-kindness, Sarah."
"Yes, Mother."
"Will you not also thank me?"