“You saw—” Surprise, excitement, alarm flooded her face with crimson. “Oh, why did you see him?”
“I saw him by appointment. He asked me to tell you—only, I’m afraid, other things put it out of my head—that he has accepted a job I offered him.”
“O Mr. Farron, what kind of job?”
“Well, the kind of job that would enable two self-denying young people to marry, I think.”
Not knowing how clearly all that she felt was written on her face Mathilde tried to put it all into words.
“How wonderful! how kind! But my mother—”
“I will arrange it with your mother.”
“Have you known all along? Oh, why did you do this wonderful thing?”
“Because—perhaps you won’t agree with me—I have taken rather a fancy to this young man. And I had other reasons.”
Mathilde took her stepfather’s hand as it lay upon the table.