“Quite?”
“Yes, quite.”
“Have you given an answer yet to Mr. Forrest?”
“Practically I have; but the mother must come round with me to see him to-morrow. The dear little mother won’t much like it; but she must do it. You don’t know how he respects her, Leslie.”
“I should think so,” said Leslie; “that goes without saying. She is quite the dearest, bravest little mother in the wide world.”
“Well, dry your tears, old girl; I’ll look after her while you are away. Be cheerful, Leslie, and get all the good you can out of this magnificent thing, for I don’t pretend that it’s not a great bit of fortune for you. It is quite possible and right for you to take help from Mr. Parker; but I could not do it. It’s not in me to take favors from anyone. Such a thing would lower me in my own eyes. Oh, it does not lower you, Leslie; but it would me, for I am differently made. We must each walk according to our own lights. And now go to bed, old girl, for I am half dead with sleep.”
“Kiss me, first,” she said. “Llewellyn, I think you are the bravest boy in all the world.”
“You would not say so if you had seen me two hours back. I was so miserable I felt fit to kill myself; but
there,” he added, clenching one of his strong hands, “I did not mean to let it out to you, and I am quite right now and I don’t feel a bit miserable.”
Leslie left the room, and Llewellyn was alone.