“Ask it first, and then we will see.”
Valentine drew breath.
“It is a big question, Polly,” he said, and his voice sounded very tender, very gentle, very, very sweet in her ears; “but you can settle it with one small word. Polly, you know I love you, dear. Will you be my wife?”
CHAPTER XXIV.
AT THE MOMENT OF VICTORY.
“It is very strange Polly should go away when I am here.”
Christina made this remark at least a dozen times in the day following Polly’s departure.
It was a wet day, as we know, and Christina was exceedingly bored in her old home.
She sat expecting Valentine all the afternoon, and as dinner drew near and he had not come, she got cross as well as bored, and she fell back upon Polly as a vent for her ill temper.
Poor Mrs. Pennington, who had felt the void in her life the very hour of Polly’s leaving her, said all that was in her heart for her youngest girl; but the mother’s tender recognition of Polly’s love did not impress Christina.
“After all, there is nothing to make a fuss about,” she said to herself. “Polly has to look after mother, whether she likes it or not. It is her duty.”