Lucy came forward timidly. “Do you remember this ring, sir?” said she (presenting one); “you dropped it in my boy’s frock when we saw you last.”
“I did so,” answered Clarence. “I trust that he will not now disdain a stranger’s offering. May it be as ominous of good luck to him as my night in your caravan has proved to me!”
“I am heartily glad to hear that you have prospered,” said Cole; “now, let us fall to.”
CHAPTER LXV.
Out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learned.—SHAKSPEARE.
“If you are bent upon leaving us so soon,” said the honest Cole, as Clarence, refusing all further solicitation to stay, seized the opportunity which the cessation of the rain afforded him, and rose to depart, “if you are bent upon leaving us so soon, I will accompany you back again into the main road, as in duty bound.”
“What, immediately on your return!” said Clarence. “No, no; not a step. What would my fair hostess say to me if I suffered it?”
“Rather, what would she say to me if I neglected such a courtesy? Why, sir, when I meet one who knows Shakspeare’s sonnets, to say nothing of the lights of the lesser stars, as well as you, only once in eight years, do you not think I would make the most of him? Besides, it is but a quarter of a mile to the road, and I love walking after a shower.”
“I am afraid, Mrs. Cole,” said Clarence, “that I must be selfish enough to accept the offer.” And Mrs. Cole, blushing and smiling her assent and adieu, Clarence shook hands with the whole party, grandfather and child included, and took his departure.