“Until when, Theresa?”
“Until Sir Harold expressed his pleasure and surprise,” she replied, blushing vividly and burying her face on his shoulder.
“Theresa,” her father went on, “I will tell you how I have been unkind, though my motives in all things concerning you have been actuated by my keen desire to leave you in some way provided for. Have you ever wanted nicer frocks and boots, and all those little fineries that add a charm to woman’s dress?”
“No, but I should like them now,” she replied, naïvely, “only that I know we are poor.”
“Then you shall have them,” he promised her, with a sparkle of triumph in his eyes. “I have a little money put away, Theresa—a little hoard of gold which I have saved for you. What do you say to going with me to one of the big towns and choosing all that you require?”
She clapped her hands gleefully. “I wonder what Sir Harold will think of me then,” she laughed.
It was always Sir Harold first with her now, and her father smiled indulgently.
“Well, Theresa, is it settled? I am feeling better to-day than I have for years. A burden seems to have been lifted from about me.”
“Oh, father, I am so happy! Is it much money that you have saved—very much?”
“Enough for present needs, Theresa, and I have dreamed of buying this little house in which to spend the evening of my life, but it may not be needed now.”