The tone was not bitter but intensely sad. The young man had, of course, been greatly wondering at this talk from Mr. Hardy, and had observed the change in his manner and his speech. He looked at him now and noted his pale, almost haggard face and his extremely thoughtful appearance.
"Mr. Hardy," said James frankly, "you are in trouble. I wish I could"—
"Thank you; no, you can't help me in this—except," continued Mr. Hardy with a faint smile, "except you solve this trouble between you and my daughter."
"There is no trouble between us, sir," replied James simply. "You know I love her and have loved her for a long time, and I believe I am able to support her and make her happy. Won't you give your consent, sir? We are not children. We know our minds."
James spoke very earnestly. He was beginning to hope that the stern, proud man who had so curtly dismissed him a little while before would in some unaccountable manner relent and give him his heart's desire.
Mr. Hardy walked along in silence a little way. Then he said almost abruptly:
"James, do you drink?"
"No, sir!"
"Or gamble?"
"You forget my mother, Mr. Hardy." The reply was almost stern.