"How shall I thank you for the favor you have done me?"
"Oh!" said Mrs. M'Catchley, warmly, "it was no favor—and I am so glad"—She stopped.
"You're not ashamed of me, then, in spite of what has happened?"
"Ashamed of you! Why, I should be so proud of you, if I were—"
"Finish the sentence, and say—'your wife!'—there it is out. My dear madam, I am rich, as you know; I love you very heartily. With your help, I think I can make a figure in a larger world than this; and that whatever my father, my grandson at least will be—But it is time enough to speak of him. What say you?—you turn away. I'll not tease you—it is not my way. I said before, ay or no; and your kindness so emboldens me that I say it again—ay or no?"
"But you take me so unawares—so—so—Lord, my dear Mr. Avenel; you are so hasty—I—I—." And the widow actually blushed, and was genuinely bashful.
"Those horrid Pompleys!" thought Richard, as he saw the Colonel bustling up with Mrs. M'Catchley's cloak on his arm.
"I press for your answer," continued the suitor, speaking very fast. "I shall leave this place to-morrow, if you will not give it."
"Leave this place—leave me?"
"Then you will be mine?"