“How long ago?”
“About two months.”
“Why then did you not give me hope ere this?”
“I would not give you hope, till hope was certain. Two years is a long time in a girl’s life. It was a possible thing for Cornelia to have forgotten—to have changed.”
“Impossible! Quite impossible! She could not forget. She could not change. Why did you not tell me? I should have known her heart by mine own.”
“I wished to be sure,” repeated Annie, a little sadly.
“Forgive me, dear Annie. But this news throws me into an unspeakable condition. You see that I must leave for America at once.”
“No. I do not see that, George.”
“But if you consider—”
“I have been considering for two months. Let me decide for you now, for you are not able to do so wisely. Write at once to Cornelia, that is your duty as well as your pleasure. But before you go to her, there are things indispensable to be done. Will you ask Doctor Moran for his child, and not be able to show him that you can care for her as she deserves to be cared for? Lawyers will not be hurried, there will be consultations, and engrossings, and signings, and love—in your case—will have to wait upon law.”