Without preface or greeting Junius approached him, and said: "I have taken your message to Miss March, and have brought you one in return. You are accepted."
Lawrence pushed back his chair, and stared blankly at the other. "What do you mean?" he presently asked.
"I mean what I say," said Keswick. "Miss March has accepted you."
A crowd of emotions rushed through the brain of Lawrence Croft; joy was among them, but it was a joy that was jostled and shaken and pushed, this way and that. "I do not understand," he said. "I did not expect such a decisive message. I supposed she might send me some encouragement, some—. Why didn't she see me before she left?"
"I am not here to explain her actions if I could," said Junius, who had not sat down. "She said: 'Tell him I accept him.' That is all. Good morning."
"But, stop!" cried Lawrence, on his feet again. "You must tell me more than that. Did you say to her only what I said to you? How did it affect her?"
"Oh," said Junius, turning suddenly at the door, "I forgot that you asked me to observe her mood. Well, she was very angry."
"With me?" cried Lawrence.
"With me," said Junius. And closing the door behind him, he strode away.
The accepted lover sat down. He had never spoken more truly than when he said he did not understand it. "Is she really mine?" he exclaimed. And with his eyes fixed on the blank wall over the mantel-piece, he repeated over and over again: "Is she mine? Is she really mine?" He had well developed mental powers, but the work of setting this matter straight and plain was too difficult for him.