An hour and a half quickly passed, and Jasper, who wished to have a few minutes of Marian’s company before it was time for her to go, cast a significant glance at his sisters. Dora said innocently:
‘You wished me to tell you when it was half-past nine, Marian.’
And Marian rose. This was a signal Whelpdale could not disregard. Immediately he made ready for his own departure, and in less than five minutes was gone, his face at the last moment expressing blended delight and pain.
‘Too good of you to have asked me to come,’ he said with gratitude to Jasper, who went to the door with him. ‘You are a happy man, by Jove! A happy man!’
When Jasper returned to the room his sisters had vanished. Marian stood by the fire. He drew near to her, took her hands, and repeated laughingly Whelpdale’s last words.
‘Is it true?’ she asked.
‘Tolerably true, I think.’
‘Then I am as happy as you are.’
He released her hands, and moved a little apart.
‘Marian, I have been thinking about that letter to your father. I had better get it written, don’t you think?’