He took the letters into his hand and undid the ribbon slowly. "I'm jolly glad you've known—it's as if you'd been looking after the family all this time, while we were plunging around in the dark. What a score! That we should have failed and you so absolutely succeeded—" Then again, "But I'm jolly ashamed—I'll tell you everything—always. We'll work together——"
He looked them through and then flung them into the fire.
"I've grown up," he suddenly cried; "come of age at last—at last I know."
"Not too fast," said Harry, smiling; "it's only a stage. There's plenty to learn—and we'll learn it together." Then, after a pause, "There's another thing, though, that will astonish you a bit—I'm engaged——"
"Engaged!" Robin stared. Quickly before his eyes passed visions of terrible Colonial women—some entanglement that his father had contracted abroad and had been afraid to announce before. Well, whatever it might be, he would stand by him! It was they two against the world whatever happened!—and Robin felt already the anticipatory glow of self-sacrificing heroism.
Harry smiled. "Yes—Mary Bethel!"
"Mary! Hurrah!"
He rushed at his father and seized his hand—"You and Mary! Why, it's simply splendid! The very thing—I'd rather it were she than any one!—she told me what she thought of me the other night, I can tell you—fairly went for me. By Jove! I'm glad—we'll have some times, three of us here together. When was it?"
"Oh! only this morning! I had asked her before, but it was only settled this morning."
Then Robin was suddenly grave. "Oh! but, I say, there's Aunt Clare—and Uncle Garrett!" He had utterly forgotten them. What would they say? The Bethels of all people!