Mattie told him all that she knew, and he listened, rubbed his hands one over the other complacently, and exulted, like a good man as he was, over the well-doing of others. He indulged in a short prayer also for all the goodness and mercies vouchsafed to Sidney; and Mattie, who had never become reconciled to these sudden and spasmodic prayers, yet joined in this one with all her heart.
"Now," said he, suddenly assuming his every-day briskness, "for my news. But in the first place, don't excite yourself, Mattie—because it ends in nothing."
"Indeed!"
"I am not fond of exciting situations, and therefore I begin with the end, in order that I may not be excited myself. The end is, that I declined their offer, Mattie."
"What offer?"
"We'll come to that next. They wanted to see me at the chapel—there's a great scheme afoot for a further extension of the missionary project; they want a very energetic man for Africa—just such a man as I am," he added, with that old naive conceit which set well and conveniently upon him, because he spoke the truth after all; "and they've altered their opinion of that other man, who, if you remember, stepped into my shoes some time ago."
"Yes, I remember."
"But they were too late—I told them so. I said that though my daughter was about to marry and have a home of her own, yet I had learned to love her so dearly that I did not care, in my old age, as it will be presently, to begin life afresh without her. I thought that I could do my Master's service here as elsewhere, and that I would rather give up that good chance than give up you, and go away for ever."
"For ever!—why?"
"I was to settle down at the Cape—minister at a chapel there that will be completed before the next vessel arrives—and I felt too weak of purpose, Heaven forgive me, to leave you altogether."