Such a noble sacrifice of her own feelings and her own wishes—and although I felt it in my heart of hearts I am sure none but a woman could fully understand it—put me upon my mettle, and it was with truth I spoke:—
“Norah, if anything could have added to my love and esteem for you, your attitude to me in this matter has done it. My darling, I shall try hard all my life to be worthy of you, and that you may never, through any act of mine, decline for a moment from the standard you have fixed. God knows I could have no greater pride or joy than that this very moment I should call you my wife. My dear! my dear! I shall count the very hours until that happy time shall come. But all shall be as you wish. You will go to the schools we spoke of, and your father shall pay for them. He will not refuse, I know, and what is needed he shall have. If there be any way that he would prefer—that suits your wishes—it shall be done. More than this! if he thinks it right, we can be married before you go, and you can keep your own name until my time comes to claim you.”
“No! no! Arthur. When once I shall bear your name I shall be too proud of it to be willing to have any other. But I want, when I do bear it, to bear it worthily—I want to come to you as I think your wife should come.”
“My dear, dear Norah—my wife to be—all shall be as you wish.”
Here we heard the footsteps of Joyce approaching.
“I had better tell him,” she said.
When he came in she had his dinner ready. He greeted me warmly.
“Won’t ye stay?” he said. “Don’t go unless ye wish to!”
“I think, sir, Norah wants to have a chat with you when you have had your dinner.”
Norah smiled a kiss at me as I went out. At the door I turned and said to her:—