'Going to say yes!' he repeated slowly.
'Only you would not let her, sir. You gave her no time, and then you went away.'
He still looked hard at me, and shook his head slowly. 'You know very little about it, Willie.'
We walked on a long way in silence. At last he said again, 'You thought she would have said yes?'
'I thought so, sir.'
'You know nothing at all about it.'
When we reached home there was Mrs. Janet watching eagerly for us. I guessed how much Master Caleb dreaded having to meet and tell her all.
But she only just looked once at him. She asked no questions, she did not even pity him. Only her sudden change of face—the look of concern—the quick sigh of disappointment that she checked instantly—the grave silence that so respected his great sorrow, went to Master Caleb's heart.
I saw him go up to her, kneel down beside her, look up at her, and then—no, I must have been mistaken—grown-up men like Master Caleb never cry.
School had scarcely begun the next morning when I was mysteriously called out by Mrs. Janet, and found her arrayed in the best bonnet and gown, that usually never saw the light except on Sundays.