“You will pardon the Doctor and me for retiring so soon, but we have many duties to perform.”
The Doctor and Mrs. Greydon then left the library to allow the young people to have their own conversation.
When Dr. and Mrs. Greydon had left Roderick Barclugh and their daughter to their fates, Barclugh sat on the settle with his arms folded on his breast, and looking squarely at Mollie Greydon, ventured the words that were burning within his heart:
“Miss Greydon, I wish to address you on a subject that is most dear to my life. I——”
“Why, Mr. Barclugh, what is it that you mean?” interrupted Mollie as she put down her book.
“Miss Greydon, I believe that I could recover my former health more quickly if I could settle one thing in my mind,” continued Barclugh.
“I am sure that if there is anything to be done you ought to do so at once, Mr. Barclugh, for you have been a very ill man,” returned Mollie, as she looked at him and saw that peculiar expression that she had noticed in his eyes when he sat opposite her at the breakfast table two months before.
Roderick Barclugh now looked at Mollie, who instantly felt that some great ordeal was impending. He arose and took Mollie’s hands in both of his as he knelt at her side, and pleaded:
“Miss Greydon, I have loved you since that day I first met you at your father’s table. My life is a void without your presence at my side. Will you be my wife?” he asked as he took Mollie’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
Mollie sat in her chair as though she were fashioned from marble. Her beautiful face was transfixed away from Barclugh, and her gaze was that of a frightened fawn. She could not answer.