If it cost Sydney a pang to part with her treasured watch, and it did undoubtedly, she was more than repaid by the look upon the women’s faces as they saw the noble pile of flannel garments laid out for their benefit. Mr. Osric had done his part well, and obtained for Sydney very nearly the full value of the watch, after some argument with Mr. Oliver, who declared that he “never took back an article when sold.”
He was, however, speedily rewarded for yielding by a gentleman with light blue eyes and a monocle, who had been turning over scarf pins at the other end of the shop during Mr. Osric’s transaction.
This gentleman came closer to Oliver, when Mr. Osric had gone out, and requested to be allowed to examine the little watch the clergyman had left behind him. After a brief but careful examination he asked the price, and bought it, leaving Mr. Oliver, who knew Sir Algernon Bridge well enough by sight, to shrewdly surmise that a “single gentleman who bought a lady’s watch must shortly be intending to be married.”
CHAPTER XVI
A PROPOSAL
A sleety rain was falling, but, despite the cold, St. Quentin’s couch was drawn up close beneath the mullioned windows of the library, from which he could look out upon the green expanse of Park and the mighty trees, which had seen generations of his family reign their reign at the great old Castle, and die.
The present owner’s face was sad enough, as he gazed out on the splendid prospect, beautiful even in the bareness of winter and the dreariness of rain.
At his elbow lay an invalid writing-desk and a sheet of paper, on which the words were written: “Dear Fane—Cut the timber from....” He had gone no further, though he had started that letter to his agent when Sir Algernon had left him an hour ago.
A sentence kept rising up before him whenever he took up his pen to write, a sentence which, though spoken more than five years ago, was fresh as though he heard it yesterday.