Clara met him in the hall, and at once led him into the room which she had prepared for him. He had given her his hand in the hall, but did not speak to her till she had spoken to him after the closing of the room door behind them. "I thought that you would come," she said, still holding him by the hand.
"I did not know what to do," he answered. "I couldn't say which was best. Now I am here I shall only be in your way." He did not dare to press her hand, nor could he bring himself to take his away from her.
"In my way;—yes; as an angel, to tell me what to do in my trouble. I knew you would come, because you are so good. But you will have breakfast;—see, I have got it ready for you."
"Oh no; I breakfasted at Redicote. I would not trouble you."
"Trouble me, Will! Oh, Will, if you knew!" Then there came tears in her eyes, and at the sight of them both his own were filled. How was he to stand it? To take her to his bosom and hold her there for always; to wipe away her tears so that she should weep no more; to devote himself and all his energy and all that was his to comfort her,—this he could have done; but he knew not how to do anything short of this. Every word that she spoke to him was an encouragement to this, and yet he knew that it could not be so. To say a word of his love, or even to look it, would now be an unmanly insult. And yet, how was he not to look it,—not to speak of it? "It is such a comfort that you should be here with me," she said.
"Then I am glad I am here, though I do not know what I can do. Did he suffer much, Clara?"
"No, I think not; very little. He sank at last quicker than I expected, but just as I thought he would go. He used to speak of you so often, and always with regard and esteem!"
"Dear old man!"
"Yes, Will; he was, in spite of his little faults. No father ever loved his daughter better than he loved me."
After a while the servant brought in the tea, explaining to Belton that Miss Clara had neither eaten nor drank that morning. "She wouldn't take anything till you came, sir." Then Will added his entreaties, and Clara was persuaded, and by degrees there grew between them more ease of manner and capability for talking than had been within their reach when they first met. And during the morning many things were explained, as to which Clara would a few hours previously have thought it to be almost impossible that she should speak to her cousin. She had told him of her aunt's money, and the way in which she had on that very morning sent back the cheque to the lawyer; and she had said something also as to Lady Aylmer's views, and her own views as to Lady Aylmer. With Will this subject was one most difficult of discussion; and he blushed and fidgeted in his chair, and walked about the room, and found himself unable to look Clara in the face as she spoke to him. But she went on, goading him with the name, which of all names was the most distasteful to him; and mentioning that name almost in terms of reproach,—of reproach which he felt it would be ungenerous to reciprocate, but which he would have exaggerated to unmeasured abuse if he had given his tongue licence to speak his mind.