His voice trembled, and he looked at the young man with something like anger in his eyes.
‘I’m willing to do that, Mr. Hewett,’ said Kirkwood in a low but firm voice, his eyes turned away from Clara. ‘No human being can answer for another in the real meaning of the word; but I take upon myself to say that Clara will bring you no sorrow. She hears me say it. They’re not the kind of words that a man speaks without thought of what they mean.’
Clara had seated herself by the table, and was moving a finger along the pattern of the dirty white cloth. She bit her under-lip in the manner already described, seemingly her habit when she wished to avoid any marked expression of countenance.
‘I can’t see what Mr. Kirkwood’s got to do with it at all,’ she said, with indifference, which now, however, was rather good-humoured than the reverse. ‘I’m sure I don’t want anybody to answer for me.’ A slight toss of the head. ‘You’d have let me go in any case, father; so I don’t see you need bring Mr. Kirkwood’s name in.’
Hewett turned away to the fireplace and hung his head. Sidney, gazing darkly at the girl, saw her look towards him, and she smiled. The strange effect of that smile upon her features! It gave gentleness to the mouth, and, by making more manifest the intelligent light of her eyes, emphasised the singular pathos inseparable from their regard. It was a smile to which a man would concede anything, which would vanquish every prepossession, which would inspire pity and tenderness and devotion in the heart of sternest resentment.
Sidney knew its power only too well; he averted his face. Then Clara rose again and said:
‘I shall just walk round and tell Mrs. Tubbs. It isn’t late, and she’d like to know as soon as possible.’
‘Oh, surely it’ll do in the mornin’!’ exclaimed Mrs. Hewett, who had followed the conversation in silent anxiety.
Clara paid no attention, but at once put on her hat again. Then she said, ‘I won’t be long, father,’ and moved towards the door.
Hewett did not look round.