Richard, who had dismounted, pressed Mr. Lancelot’s hand.
“I shall not forget your kindness, Lot,” he said.
“Bosh, sir, I always side with a man of spirit. Go up to her, cousin, and do your best. I’ll see you’re not interfered with.”
Richard, blushing, turned away and entered the house. As for Mr. Lot, he thrust his hands deep into his breeches-pockets, looked after his cousin whimsically, and laughed.
What a sweet picture of sanctity met Mr. Richard’s eyes as he opened the door of Miss Hardacre’s parlor bashfully after his knock had been softly acknowledged! Miss Jilian was seated in the window-seat, dressed in a silky green gown that rippled like water as she rose to meet her cousin. There was much lace upon her bosom and a knot of red ribbon over her heart.
“Cousin Jilian.”
Miss Hardacre let her eyes rest only for a moment on Richard’s face. Jeffray was blushing very handsomely.
“Jilian, I have come to ask you to forgive me.”
He went close to his cousin, and stood looking at her with humbled ardor on his face. Miss Hardacre appeared much distressed. Surely his sweet cousin’s eyes were somewhat red and swollen. And were those wrinkles under the lids?
“Jilian, will you forgive me?”