"But you," said Mr. Browne frantically, "are you good or kind? Is it not cruel of you to keep him waiting as you do?" Again his eye peered through the bushes, and again he saw Dillwyn pacing to and fro.
"But what can I do?"—tearfully.
"Go to him!"—nobly.
"Oh, Dicky! How can I go?"
"My dear girl, the road is open before you."
"That shows," said she, sighing faintly, "how little you know about it. No, we must wait."
"Wait! It's been a good long wait already," said Mr. Browne, who really ought to have been ashamed of himself, "How much longer is it to go on?"
"I don't know," dejectedly.
"Already, I expect, he is beginning to think it a century."
"Poor dear Jack!" said she.