"A few minutes ago!"
Lewis and Louise exchanged glances of puzzled surprise. It was an hour and a half by the clock since they had been expected in the parlour, and it was an hour past the usual bed-time. But the slow-moving pen moved on, and so Lewis turned the knob of the parlour door. The two occupants of the room were standing near the large, old-fashioned fireplace, engaged in earnest conversation, the glow of lights and shadows in the room revealing, on Dorothy's part, a flushed face and shining eyes, and on the minister's an attitude that arrested Lewis's steps, and caused an exclamation to escape his lips even before he was aware; for he held in his two hands Dorothy's own, and the light in his eyes and the flush on Dorothy's cheeks were not caused by the play of the fire-light.
"Come in," he said, turning suddenly at the sound of the opening door, but in no other way altering his position: "Dorothy and I were just speaking of you, wishing for you; we want to ask your advice. I want Mr. and Mrs. Morgan to give me a present. I incline to the opinion that I had better ask for it to-night, but Dorothy counsels waiting until to-morrow; what say you?"
"Dorothy!" said her brother, and he could not himself tell whether his tone meant surprise, or doubt, or what. "I don't understand!"
And the red glow that instantly overspread Dorothy's face told that her old feelings of embarrassment were taking rapid possession of her; she could not explain.
"It is a simple matter." The minister's voice was unembarrassed and dignified. "I have asked Dorothy to be my wife, and she has said 'Yes.' There remains now the asking for her of the father and mother. I had hoped that you would not be displeased at the news."
Then did Lewis Morgan recover the use of his wits. Amazed he was, but plain English, as briefly and plainly put as that, was not to be misunderstood. He waited to close the door after Louise, then went forward in hearty fashion holding out a hand to each.
"I was very much astonished," he said; "I am sure I may be excused for that. Who had imagined such a thing! But to say that it is not a glad astonishment would not be true."
As for Louise—women, at least some women, know what to do even when they are very much astonished, and Louise was not that—she went forward and put both arms around Dorrie, and gave her tender, sisterly kisses, on the flushed cheeks and glowing lips.
"I thought," said Lewis suddenly, a few minutes thereafter, the first feelings of bewilderment having subsided, "I thought, Dorrie, that you had an ambition to be a teacher."