“Won't you speak to me?” he asked.
“Good-evening, Mr. Lloyd,” returned Ellen.
Then she tried to move on again, but Robert still stood before her.
“I want to say something to you,” he said, in a low voice. “I was coming to your house to-night, but I saw you on the car. Please come to that seat over there. There is nobody in that direction. They will all go towards the fireworks now.”
Ellen looked at him hesitatingly. At that moment she seemed to throw out protecting antennæ of maidenliness; and, besides, there was always the memory of the cut in wages, for which she still judged him; and then there was the long neglect.
“Please come,” said Robert. He looked at her at once like a conqueror and a pleading child. Ellen placed her hand on his arm, and they went to the seat under the clump of birches. They were quite alone, for the whole great company was streaming towards the fireworks. A fiery wheel was revolving in the distance, and rockets shot up, dropping showers of stars. Ellen gazed at them without seeing them at all.
Robert, seated beside her, looked at her earnestly. “I am going to put back the wages on the old basis to-morrow,” he said.
Ellen made no reply.
“Business has so improved that I feel justified in doing so,” said Robert. His tone was almost apologetic. Never as long as he lived would he be able to look at such matters from quite the same standpoint as that of the girl beside him. She knew that, and yet she loved him. She never would get his point of view, and yet he loved her. “I have waited until I was able to do that before speaking to you again,” said Robert. “I knew how you felt about the wage-cutting. I thought when matters were back on the old basis that you might feel differently towards me. God knows I have been sorry enough for it all, and I am glad enough to be able to pay them full wages again. And now, dear?”
“It has been a long time,” said Ellen, looking at her little hands, clasped in her lap.