"And what did you say in reply?" asked Clara, considerably interested.
"I told him that at present my circumstances would not permit me to comply with his conditions."
"That's a pity."
"But that I was expecting a legacy from a near relative that may possibly fall to me very soon, which would remove every difficulty."
"What did he say then?"
"That when I received the legacy he would give me your hand, provided you were still willing."
The young lady cast her eyes upon the ground. She did not think much of waiting for dead men's shoes, and doubted whether her lover had any such relative as he referred to. In her own mind she looked upon the matter as at an end; and began to consider for whom she had better angle next. She did not, however, mean to say this to Cromwell, for she had no objection to keeping him dancing attendance upon her. It would gratify her vanity, and perhaps he might serve, unconsciously, to help her in snaring some other fish. She thought her best policy in the present case, was to remain silent, unless she was called upon to say something.
"What do you say to that, Clara?" asked Cromwell.
"I suppose it is fair," she said.