‘I suppose she preferred that I should tell you. I looked in at the Buildings this afternoon, and had a talk with Clara.’
John hung upon his words, with lips slightly parted, with a trembling in the hairs of his grey beard.
‘You did?’
‘I had something to ask her, so I went when she was likely to be alone. It’s a long while ago since I asked her the question for the first time—but I’ve got the right answer at last.’
John stared at him in pathetic agitation.
‘You mean to tell me you’ve asked Clara to marry you?’
‘There’s nothing very dreadful in that, I should think.’
‘Give us your hand again! Sidney Kirkwood, give us your hand again! If there’s a good-hearted man in this world, if there’s a faithful, honest man, as only lives to do kindness—What am I to say to you? It’s too much for me. I can’t find a word as I’d wish to speak. Stand out and let’s look at you. You make me as I can’t neither speak nor see—I’m just like a child—’
He broke down utterly, and shook with the choking struggle of laughter and sobs. His emotion affected Sidney, who looked pale and troubled in spite of the smile still clinging feebly about his lips.
‘If it makes you glad to hear it,’ said the young man, in an uncertain voice, ‘I’m all the more glad myself, on that account.’