“It was whether I loved you—enough.”
“Suppose,” said Humphrey, “I join Sir William Waller’s force when Gabriel Harford returns, and then come back in a year and ask you again. By that time you may know your own mind.”
But at this suggestion Nell had fresh light thrown on her innermost heart.
“Oh, no,” she cried, clinging to his hand. “I could not bear that you should go away for a year. They would kill you, as they killed my father.”
“And you would care a little?” said Humphrey, smiling. “Perhaps, after all, you do begin even now to love me.”
She did not reply, but she did not resist him when he clasped his arms around her, and drawing the fair little head on to his shoulder covered it with kisses.
“To-morrow,” he said, “I will ride to Newbury, and if Dr. Twisse gives his consent, who knows but he may be willing to return with me, and himself tie the knot? For in days like these I am sure Madam Harford will agree with the proverb, ‘Happy is the wooing that’s not long a-doing.’”
Yet after all it was not till Humphrey Neal and Dr. Harford had made their farewells the next morning, and had left the Manor House to a most dreary quiet—a stillness which might be felt—that Helena became quite sure of herself. The light of her life seemed to have gone out, and she wondered how she had ever endured existence at Notting Hill all through the previous autumn. The next day her spirits sank still lower. What if Dr. Twisse would not consent to the marriage? It was quite possible that he might consider Humphrey Neal’s prospects too much injured by the war to make him a desirable husband from the financial point of view.
And, indeed, this consideration was what chiefly filled the wooer himself with anxiety as he journeyed down to Newbury, and Dr. Harford had no little difficulty in cheering him in his depression. So downhearted had he become when they actually reached their destination, that the physician good-naturedly undertook to break the ice for him, and leaving Humphrey at the inn, took the letter from Madam Harford himself to the Rectory. He made a most excellent ambassador, for very few could resist his charm of manner, and his frank, clear way of stating a case. The Rector knew at once that he was a man whose sound judgment could be trusted, and he promised to call on them at the inn in an hour’s time to discuss the matter with Mr. Neal.
Fortified by a good supper and by a cheery talk with Dr. Harford, Humphrey underwent the ordeal with composure, and made a good impression on Helena’s guardian. He found also, to his amusement, that the mere fact that Dr. Twisse was a parson told after all in his favour. For as the good man informed them, he had only that morning been pondering over the church register, and had found that it furnished sad food for reflection. The burials were many, but the marriages had been few indeed since the war broke out.