‘I hope to make the acquaintance—of your daughter,’ he said in leaving, knowing that he might have added with predestinate truth, ‘of my new tenderly-beloved.’
‘I hope you will,’ she answered. ‘This evening she evidently has gone for a walk instead of coming here.’
‘And, by-the-bye, you have not told me what you especially wanted to see me for?’
‘Ah, no. I will put it off.’
‘Very well. I don’t pretend to guess.’
‘I must tell you another time.’
‘If it is any little business in connection with your late husband’s affairs, do command me. I’ll do anything I can.’
‘Thank you. And I shall see you again soon?’
‘Certainly. Quite soon.’
When he was gone she looked reflectively at the spot where he had been standing, and said: ‘Best hold my tongue. It will work of itself, without my telling.’