“At any rate, he is the one person who ever troubles to inquire after you, and I believe that is the chief reason I have for liking him.”
Ralph was so well content with this speech that he let the subject drop, and, as Evereld was eager to hear all that he had been doing since they had been separated, he began to give her an amusing account of the straits he had been in and the work he had obtained. Far too soon they reached Sir Matthew’s house, and were obliged to part.
“You will write when you can?” said Evereld, wistfully, as she lingered for a moment on the steps with her hand in his. “I don’t think Sir Matthew has any right to object, and I shall want to know what you decide about Scotland.”
“Yes, you shall hear directly it is decided,” said Ralph, trying to feel hopeful. “I wish I knew what would be the wisest thing to do.”
Then, with a lingering glance into the sweet eyes lifted to his, he bade her good-bye and turned away.
“How I wish I were the Professor’s little granddaughter,” she thought to herself as she glanced down the dark road after them, with a sick longing to be going too. And, had she but known it, Ivy was at that very time thinking enviously of Ralph’s old friend and of her many advantages.
Meanwhile Geraghty threw open the front door, and in the cheerful light that streamed through the hall Evereld caught a vision of Sir Matthew coming down the stairs, and, taking her courage in both hands, she entered the house and went straight up to him.