“I shall be in the Cliff Field in case I am wanted.”
I went there straightway, and sat on the table rock in the centre of the fields, and thought and thought. In all my thought there was no cloud. Each day—each hour seemed to reveal new beauties in the girl I loved, and I felt as if all the world were full of sunshine, and all the future of hope; and I built new resolves to be worthy of the good fortune which had come upon me.
It was not long before Norah came to me, and said that she had told her father, and that he wished to speak with me. She said that he quite agreed about the school, and that there would be no difficulty made by him on account of any false pride about my helping in the task. We had but one sweet minute together on the rock, and one kiss; and then, hand in hand, we hurried back to the cottage, and found Joyce waiting for us, smoking his pipe.
Norah took me inside, and, after kissing her father, came shyly and kissed me also, and went out. Joyce began:—
“Me daughter has been tellin’ me about the plan of her goin’ to school, an’ her an’ me’s agreed that it’s the right thing to do. Of coorse, we’re not of your class, an’ if ye wish for her it is only right an’ fair that she should be brought up to the level of the people that she’s goin’ into. It’s not in me own power to do all this for her, an’ although I didn’t give her the schoolin’ that the quality has, I’ve done already more nor min like me mostly does. Norah knows more nor any girl about here—an’ as ye’re to have the benefit of yer wife’s schoolin’, I don’t see no rayson why ye shouldn’t help in it. Mind ye this—if I could see me way to do it meself, I’d work me arms off before I’d let you or any one else come between her an’ me in such a thing. But it’d be only a poor kind of pride that’d hurt the poor child’s feelins, an’ mar her future—an’ so it’ll be as ye both wish. Ye must find out the schools an’ write me about them when ye go back to London.” I jumped up and shook his hand.
“Mr. Joyce, I am more delighted than I can tell you; and I promise, on my honour, that you shall never in your life regret what you have done.”
“I’m sure of that—Mr.—Mr.—”
“Call me Arthur!”
“Well! I must do it some day—Arthur—an’ as to the matther that Norah told me ye shpoke of—that, if I’d wish it, ye’d be married first. Well! me own mind an’ Norah’s is the same—I’d rather that she come to you as a lady at wance—though God knows! it’s a lady she is in all ways I iver see one in me life—barrin’ the clothes!”
“That’s true, Mr. Joyce! there is no better lady in all the land.”