“Oh, sir, I do not know what to say,” she answered, trembling a little. “It is so unexpected—and a great honour—and—and I am overwhelmed.”
“Could you like me?” he gently asked.
“I do like you, sir; very much. But this—this would be different. Perhaps you would let me take until to-morrow to think about it?”
“Of course I will. Bring me your answer then. Bring it yourself, whatever it may be.”
“I will, sir. And I thank you very greatly.”
All night long Anne Lewis lay awake. Should she take this good man for her husband, or should she not? She did like him very much: and what a position it would be for her; and how sheltered she would be henceforth from the frowns of the world! Anne might never have hesitated, but for the remains of her love for Mr. Angerstyne. That was passing away from her heart day by day, as she knew; it would soon have passed entirely. She could never feel that same love again; it was over and done with for ever; but there was surely no reason why she should sacrifice all her future to its remembrance. Yes: she would accept Sir Robert Tenby: and would, by the help of Heaven, make him a true, faithful, good wife.
It was nearly dusk the next afternoon before she could leave the house. Mrs. Lewis had kept her in sight so long that she feared she might not find the opportunity that day. She ran all the way to Bellwood, anxious to keep her promise: she could not bear to seem to trifle, even for a moment, with this good and considerate man. Sir Robert was waiting for her in a glow of firelight. He came forward, took both her hands in his, and looked into her face inquiringly.
“Well?”
“Yes, sir, if you still wish to take me. I will try to be to you a loving wife; obedient and faithful.”
With a sigh of relief, he sat down on a sofa that was drawn to the fire and placed her beside him, holding her hand still.