“I am not asking you to marry my mother. Mothers of only sons are hard to please, but you know as well as I can tell you that the mater is fond of you at heart, and that she will grow fonder still. She had her own ideas, and she fought for them, but she won’t fight any more. You mustn’t be hard on the mater, Claire. She has done her best for me to-day.”
“I know! I know! I was sorry for her. Sorrier than I was for myself. It’s so hard that I should have come between you two!”
At that Erskine laughed, a short, impatient laugh.
“Oh, Claire, Claire, how long are you going to waste time in discussing other people’s feelings, before you tell me about your own? Darling, I’m in love with you!—I’m in love for the first time in my life. I’m impatient. I’m waiting. There’s no one in the world for me at this moment but just yourself; I’m waiting for you to forget every one but me. Do you love me, Claire?”
“You know I do! You know I do! Oh!” cried Claire, yielding to the strength of the strong arms, and resting her head on the broad shoulder with an unspeakable rush of joy and rest. “Oh, but you don’t know how much! I can’t tell you—I can’t put it into words, but it’s my whole heart, my whole life! Oh, every thought has been with you for such a long, long time.”
“My darling! My own sweet, brave little girl! And my thoughts with you! Thank God, we shall be together now. We have had enough of separation and chance meetings. There must be an end of that. You’ll have to marry me at once!”
This was rushing ahead with a vengeance! Claire shook her head, with a little laugh sweet as a chime of joy bells.
“You ridiculous—boy! I can’t. It’s impossible. You forget my work. There’s all next term. I couldn’t possibly leave without giving notice.”
“Couldn’t you! We’ll see to that. Do you seriously believe that I’m going to let you go back to that drudgery, and kick my heels waiting for four months? You don’t understand the kind of man you are marrying, my lass!”
Claire loved the sound of that “my lass,” loved the close grip of the arms, the feel of the rough cheek against her own. For a few minutes neither spoke, too utterly, completely absorbed in each other’s presence. To Claire, as to Erskine, a four months’ delay seemed an aeon of time through which to wade before the consummation of a perfect happiness, but it seemed impossible that it could be avoided.