“Yes, love, and for the very man whose merits my foolish child failed to see.”
Jabez looked at him vaguely.
“Surely not Mr. Marsland!”
“Pah! no!” exclaimed Mr. Ashton, as if disgusted at his obtuseness. “Yourself, man—Jabez Clegg.”
Jabez fixed his eyes on his informant in blank amazement, a monosyllabic long-drawn “Me!” being his sole response.
“Just so!” assented Mr. Ashton, and he took a pinch of snuff on the strength of it.
“Oh, sir, there must be some mistake! How has this been ascertained? Has Miss Chadwick made——”
“No, Clegg, the poor lass has never said one word, except with her eyes and pulse. Dr. Hardie has made the discovery now, and it turns out Mrs. Chadwick suspected it long ago.”
“Oh, dear! dear! this is very terrible!”
He was estimating the pain in Ellen’s heart by that in his own.