"I have no doubt what you say is all true," said Clara, though in her own heart she had very serious doubts; "but then it will not be very long to wait a year or two, as the money will come to you then."
"A year or two!" repeated Cromwell. "It seems to me like waiting forever."
"I am afraid you have not the gift of patience, Mr. Cromwell," said Clara, smiling archly.
"No; I have not in this case, for I do not think there is any occasion for waiting."
"But my father thinks so, unfortunately. If you can succeed in persuading him to the contrary, you will find me ready to do as you desire."
"Then you are determined to abide by your father's decision," said Cromwell, in accents of disappointment.
"I must," said Clara, mildly, "however much my own heart suffers in consequence," and she put on the air of a victim of parental tyranny; "unless," she added, "I am able to make my father regard it in a different light."
"Promise me that you will try," said her lover, grasping her hand.
"I will do what I can," she said. "But, really, I must go now. My father will not know what has become of me."
With a sweet smile, she left him, and returned to the house. He turned, and went back slowly to his shop.