“It would make me very happy,” said Totty gently.
“I am amazed!” exclaimed George. “I do not know what to say—it seems so strange!”
“Does it? It seems so natural to me. Mamie is always first in my mind—whatever can contribute to her happiness in any way—and especially in such a way as this——”
“And she?” George asked.
“She loves you, George—with all her heart.” Totty touched his hand softly. “And she could not love a man whom we should be more glad to see her marry,” she added, putting into her voice all the friendly tenderness she could command.
George let his head sink on his breast. Totty held his hand a moment longer, gave it an infinitesimal squeeze and then withdrew her own, sinking back into her chair with a little sigh as though she had unburdened her heart. For some seconds neither spoke again.
“Cousin Totty,” George said at last, “I believe you are the best friend I have in the world. I can never thank you for all your disinterested kindness.”
Totty smiled sweetly in the dark, partly at the words he used and partly at the hopes she founded upon them.
“It would be strange if I were not,” she said. “I have many reasons for not being your enemy, at all events. I have thought a great deal about you during the last year. Will you let me speak quite frankly?”
“You have every right to say what you think,” George answered gratefully. “You have taken me in when I was in need of all the friendship and kindness you have given me. You have made me a home, you have given me back the power to work, which seemed gone, you have——”