"I hope to Heaven that you did not think I was hinting," say I, growing crimson; "it certainly sounded very like it, but I really and truly was not. I was thinking of a young man! I assure you" (speaking with great earnestness) "that I had as much idea of marrying you as of marrying father!"
Looking back with mature reflection at this speech, I think that it may be safely reckoned among my unlucky things.
"No," he says, wincing a little, a very little. "I know you had not; but—you have not answered my question."
For a moment I look down irresolute, then, through some fixed belief in him, I look up and tell him the plain, bare truth.
"I did think that it would be a nice thing for the boys," I say, "and so it will, there is no doubt; you will be as good as a fa—, as a brother to them; but—I like you myself besides, you may believe it or not as you please, but it is quite, quite, quite true."
As I speak, the tears steal into my eyes.
"And I like you!" he answers very simply, and so saying, stoops, and with a sort of diffidence, kisses me.
"Well, how did it go off?" cries Bobby, curiously, when I next rejoin my compeers. "Did you laugh?"
"Laugh!" I echo, with lofty anger, "I do not know what you mean! I never felt in the least inclined." Then seeing my brethren look rather aghast at this sudden change in the wind, I add gayly: "Bobby, you must never again breathe a word about Sir Roger's having been at school with father; let it be supposed that he did without education."