"But she may come here;—may she not?"
"She will not ask my leave," said he.
"She says that you are her brother. Whose leave should she ask?"
"He knows that I should ask his rather than that of any living person," said Clara.
"There, Mr. Belton. Now you must say that she may come;—or that she may not."
"I will say nothing. She knows what to do much better than I can tell her."
Mrs. Askerton was still kneeling, and again appealed to Clara. "You hear what he says. What do you say yourself? Will you come to us?—that is, if such a visit will suit you,—in point of convenience?"
"I will make no promise; but I know no reason why I should not."
"And I must be content with that? Well: I will be content." Then she got up. "For such a one as I am, that is a great deal. And, Mr. Belton, let me tell you this;—I can be grateful to you, though you cannot be gracious to me."
"I hope I have not been ungracious," said he.