"I don't know. You speak from the gentleman's point of view, you see. It is from the lady's side, and with a view to her interests, that I must consider things. Her mother's feeling is perfectly natural. It is from no objection to yourself that she wishes to stave you off. Margaret has seen nothing of the world. It is fair that she should know what she is giving up if she marries a backwoodsman."
"She does not object to the backwoods."
"She has seen too little of life in the front to realise what she would be giving up. You have influenced her fancy, and she sees with your eyes for the moment. By-and-by she might think differently, and if it were too late it would be bad for you both. You must really have patience, and give her time."
"But----"
"Oh yes; there is plenty to say on the other side, Walter. You and I might talk a long time, but I fear neither would convince the other. Meanwhile, it is time we were both in bed. The lights are going out all over the house. Good night."
Joseph took his candle and went up-stairs. The light from a door ajar fell on him as he threaded the dim corridor, bordered with boots of sleeping guests.
"Joseph!" in a vehement whisper reached his ears. He turned, and his sister-in-law, in dressing-gown and shawl, stood before him.
"How late you are of retiring! I have watched and waited for your passing till I am completely knocked up. Ah! my poor back! and my head aches dreadfully."
"Get to bed. Late hours are always hurtful."
"I could not lie down till I had seen you. I must speak to you. And you have lingered so long."