Rosalie remained silent, her eyes downcast, her hands nervously clasping and unclasping each other.
‘I’m willin’,’ he went on, ‘to do my dooty by ’Lias and my dooty by you, Rosalie. You’ve been a good wife to he, and ye’ll be the same to me, I’ve no doubt.’
He paused, passing his hand meditatively over his grizzled locks and probably comforting himself with the reflection that in this case at least there would be no need to supply himself with such a box as that so often dolefully shown to him by his father.
‘I want to do my duty by Elias,’ said the poor young widow at last, in a choked voice, ‘but I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself, since you feel it is a sacrifice. If you hate me so much don’t marry me, Isaac,’ she added passionately.
‘Lard, my dear, who ever said I hated ’ee? Far from it! I do like ’ee very much; I’ve liked ’ee from the first. ’Lias knowed I liked ’ee. Say no more about a sacrifice; it bain’t no sacrifice to speak on. I was real upset to see how bad you was a-gettin’ on, an’ it’ll be a comfort to think as I can look arter you, and look arter the place. You and me was al’ays the best o’ friends, and we’ll go on bein’ the best o’ friends when we are man and wife. I can’t say no fairer than that.’
He stretched out his large brown palm, and Rosalie laid her cold fingers in it, and the compact was concluded by a silent hand-shake.
Then Isaac, who was a practical man, pointed out to Rosalie that her tea was growing cold, and remarked placidly that he would smoke a bit of a pipe by the fire while she partook of it.
As she approached the table and began tremulously to fill her cup he drew forward a chair and sat down.
Rosalie glanced round at him and started; the new era had already begun. Isaac was sitting in Elias’s chair!