"Enough Henry! We make parting unnecessarily difficult. In a year you will find your bride; until then--silence."
He stepped back somewhat offended at this hasty repulsion, and his features again assumed the cold, proud expression, which had not left hers for a moment. Mr. Alison evidently was not the man to beg for caresses which were not freely granted him.
An approaching step in the anteroom demanded that both should immediately resume their company manners; the young lady as before, sat in the arm chair, and Alison opposite her, when the person who had thus announced his coming, entered the parlor. He was a small, elderly man with gray hair and sharp, penetrating eyes from which gleamed an inconcealable irony, as he saw the young couple sitting there so much like strangers.
"The physician is about to drive away, Miss Jane. You wished to speak with him," he said.
Jane rose hastily. "Excuse me, Mr. Alison, I must go to my father. I will tell him of your visit, this evening."
She reached him her hand. A significant pressure, a glance of deep, calm, mutual understanding, then they parted with a hasty adieu, and Jane left the room.
As the door of the ante-room closed behind her, the last comer stepped up to Alison, and laid a hand upon his shoulder,
"I congratulate you!"
The young man turned quickly around. "For what?" he asked sharply.
"For your betrothal."