“I am certain that the saints see and love the creatures,” she said instead, to her own surprise. Then she turned to Richard with a gentleness that he had never before felt in her.
“And you, Mr. Latham? Are you well? Shall you stay with us in Cleavedge next winter?” she asked.
“I am perfectly well, thank you, Miss Carrington,” Richard said. “No, not Cleavedge next winter. Ted Wilberforce and I are to foregather in New York; he has a studio there. He will paint; I shall write. We expect to have a sort of curtailed Parnassus; two of the Nine dwelling with us. Ted and I get on together, so the good old boy will take me in. We may go to Rome, but in the spring we’ll be back here.”
“I am truly delighted!” cried Miss Carrington, and she looked so. “That is perfect! Mr. Wilberforce, I want to beg your pardon. I did not know when I met you the other day that you were related to Miss Dallas. Will you do me a great favour and prove that I am forgiven? Will you bring your cousin to see me—to-day?”
Before Ted Wilberforce could answer, Richard interposed.
“Miss Carrington,” he said, “permit me. You will admit my right to say this. I am thankful that you are making this overture. Will you go all the way and welcome Miss Dallas as your daughter? In all the world there is no other who would be to you what she would be. I shall be grateful if you can break down her scruples, make her give Kit his due, and you, with them, be happy ever after! It’s such a pity to waste a day of happiness in an uncertain world! Will you ease my mind by giving me this promise, Miss Carrington?”
“Yes,” said Miss Carrington, gruffly. “I had already decided that I was a fool.”
“Good news!” cried Richard, springing up and seizing her hands. “Ted, will you carry out your share of this programme, bring Anne to Miss Carrington—when, Miss Carrington?”
“Now. I have a carriage waiting. Shall we go to fetch her? Little Anne may come. No one will see her costume in the carriage,” said Miss Carrington. Ted Wilberforce hesitated. He loved Anne, was impatient for her happiness, to see her trouble go, her joy come, but—Richard? He could not bear to leave him alone while they went on this errand.
“Why not go alone, Miss Carrington? I’ll stay with Latham. You go to fetch Anne yourself. Take little Anne, but I stay here. It’s you and I together now, Dick, so I stay with you to-day,” he said.