"I, ah, don't think I'll present myself before Mrs. Dale—ah, without more preparation than this. Besides, would it not put her out?"
"No, indeed. Quite unceremonious—taking us exactly as you find us—pot-luck."
"Then be it so. You are very good. Thank you, William."
"Thank you, Mr. Bates." Dale seized upon the visitor's hat and stick. "Now you may cut along, Norah, and tell Mrs. Dale that Mr. Bates is kind enough to stay supper—without ceremony."
Norah glided across the office to the inner door, and, going out, asked if she should bring a lamp.
"Yes, bring the lamp in ten minutes—not before. There's light enough for two such old friends to chat together;" and Dale waited until she had shut the door. "Now, sir, this is kind and friendly. Give me your hand, Mr. Bates. I'd like to hold it in mine, while I say these few prelim'nary words."
"Yes, William?" The old man had immediately offered his hand, and he looked up with a puzzled and anxious expression.
"I merely wish to assure you, Mr. Bates, very sincerely, that if you at this moment could see right into my heart, you'd plainly see my respect, and what is more, my true affection for you, sir."
"I believe it, William."
"And it has always been a source of comfort to me to think that you, sir, have entertained a most kindly feeling to me, sir."