“And you will not return to us?”
Her question came from her like a sigh—a sigh that is quickly followed by a sob.
He looked at her for some moments in silence. He had a thought that if he meant to tell her that he loved her, no better opportunity would be likely to present itself. This was for the first few moments, but his thought was succeeded by a feeling that it would be a cruelty to shock this innocent prattling child with his confession. She could not be otherwise than shocked were he to tell her that his desire was to get her promise to marry him. He would adhere to his resolution to wait. He would make another opportunity if one did not present itself.
“If it be God's will I shall return to you,” he said. “Yes, in good time—in good time.”
“I am glad,” she said. “It was because I feared that you would go away at once and not return for a long time, that I made haste to reach you when I saw you from the park.”
“Why should my going affect you, Nelly?” he asked. He wondered if the opportunity which he looked for, and yet was anxious to avoid, would persist in remaining within easy reach.
“I—I—the truth is, sir, that I wanted—I wished greatly—to ask your advice,” she said.
“I hope you will not find that you have placed overmuch dependence on me,” he said. “Let us walk along the cliffs and talk as we pursue our way. Not that I am anxious to leave this spot; it bears many happy memories to me. Was it not here that you came to me on the day of my first preaching, ministering to my needs?”
She flushed with pleasure.
“Ah, sir, all I did was as nothing compared with the good that has come to me through your words. I want your counsel now. I am sometimes very unhappy by reason of my doubts in a matter on which I should have none.”