“I think you the truest, most honest gentleman I ever saw,” she sobbed; “but—”
“Ah!” he said, with a pleasant little satisfied laugh, “that settles it, then. The impossibility has gone like smoke. Mary dear, I never hoped to be so happy as you have made me now.”
His great arms enfolded her for a moment, during which she lay panting on his breast, then, struggling to free herself, she caught and kissed one of his hands.
“Hah!” he ejaculated, “now we must think of some one else.”
He led her gently back to her chair, and bent down to kiss her forehead. Then, returning to his seat as calmly as if nothing had happened—
“I can talk freely to you now, Mary,” he said. “Is not this a great mistake?”
“Yes,” she said, with an arch look, full of her newly-found joy.
“No, no; you know what I mean. We must be very serious now. I don’t like this Mr Glyddyr.”
“I hate him,” cried Mary.
“Well, that’s honest,” he said, smiling. “But it was her father’s wish, and I suppose it is to be.”