“Mary!”
“I cannot help it, dear; I must say it. He’s a coward. He was hurt, of course, but not so much as he pretended. Chris Lisle knocked him right down, and he wouldn’t get up for fear he should get knocked down again. Didn’t Chris look like a lion?”
“It is all very, very terrible, Mary, and I want your help and sympathy so badly.”
“I can’t help you, coz; I’m too bad. And all this was my fault.”
“No; not all,” said Claude sadly. “Papa has been thinking about Mr Glyddyr for a long time, and dropping hints to me about him.”
“Yes; and you’ll have to take him.”
“No,” said Claude, with quiet firmness; and her father’s stern, determined look came into her eyes. “No, I will never be Mr Glyddyr’s wife.”
“But uncle will never forgive poor Mr Lisle.”
“Don’t say that, Mary. Never is a terrible word. Papa loves me, and he would like to see me happy.”
“And shall you tell him you love Chris?”