Emily stood in anxious thought. He drew a step nearer to her; seemed about to draw nearer still, but checked himself as she looked up.
'I fear we must not do that,' she said. 'Mrs. Rossall would not forgive me.'
Woman's judgment of woman, and worth much more than Wilfrid's rough and ready scheming.
Wilfrid smiled.
'Then she also shall know,' he exclaimed. 'She shall take nay view of this; I will not be gainsaid. What is there in the plan that common sense can object to? Your position is not that of a servant; you are from the first our friend you honour us by the aid you give, efficient as few could make it. Yes, there shall be no concealment far better so.'
'You have no fear of the views they will take?'
'None!' he said, with characteristic decision. 'If they are unreasonable, absurd, our course is plain enough. You will be my wife when I ask you to, Emily?'
She faltered, and held her hand to him.
'Is it worth while to go hack to Oxford?' he mused, caressing the fingers he had kissed.
'Oh, yes; you must,' Emily urged, with a sort of fear in her sudden courage. 'You must not disappoint them, your father, your friends.'