“Ah, that's the worst of it.”
“The worst of it! That's the best of it, Nelly; for though a fine lady, living in a mansion like this—why, it might be a palace—the King himself might come here——-”
“The King—you've heard that—that the King?”
She grasped him fiercely by the sleeve, and was eagerly peering into his face.
He burst out laughing, but suddenly checked himself.
“The King—the King—what was there for me to hear?” he asked in a low voice. “I only arrived from Bristol port in the morning. How could I hear anything?”
“I do n't want to hear anything, except to hear you say that you have n't broken your promise—that you have n't married any one else.”
“Oh, go away, Dick—go away!” she cried, burying her face on the arm of the settee.
He got upon his feet slowly and painfully, and stood over her.
“Why should I go away?” he asked, in the same grave voice. “If I love you—and you know I do—and if you love me—and I believe that you do—it is not for me to go away. Ah, is it possible that you have given your promise to marry some one else? Do n't weep, Nell; that's it, I see, and it can be made all right. Is that it, dear?”