A surprised and troubled look came on her old face. She evidently was pained to think that I could jest at such a moment. I hastened to relieve her.
“It is the plain and happy truth that I tell you, granny. Edith is engaged to marry me.—Is it not so?”
I turned towards the dear girl, who silently put one of her hands in mine.
Old Mrs Willis spoke no word, but I could see that her soul was full of joy. I chanced to glance at Robin, and observed that that waif had retired to the window, and was absolutely wiping his eyes, while Dumps sat observant in the middle of the room, evidently much surprised at, but not much pleased with, the sudden calm which had succeeded the outburst.
“Come, Robin,” said I, rising, “I think that you and I will leave them—Good-bye, granny and Edie; I shall soon see you again.”
I paused at the door and looked back.
“Come, Dumps, come.”
My doggie wagged his scrumpy tail, cocked his expressive ears, and glanced from me to his mistress, but did not rise.
“Pompey prefers to remain with me,” said Edie; “let him stay.”
“Punch is a wise dog,” observed Robin, as we descended the stairs together; “but you don’t ought to let your spirits go down, sir,” he added, with a profoundly sagacious glance, “’cause, of course, he can’t ’elp ’isself now. He’ll ’ave to stick to you wotever ’appens—an’ to me too!”