“It would lift a responsibility from his shoulders,” he said. “I myself am willing to take him by the hand again, and help him to rise from his present position.”
“You will let bygones be bygones--quite?”
“He suffers dreadfully still,” said Yvonne.
“I will do my best to heal the wound,” replied the Bishop. “I own I have judged him too harshly already.”
A flush of pleasure arose in Yvonne’s cheeks, and her eyes thanked him. Then she reflected, and said somewhat sadly:--
“Perhaps if you help him in that way, he won’t miss me.”
“I will guarantee his prosperity,” he answered, with dignified conviction. And then, changing his manner, after a pause, and leaning forward and looking at her hungeringly, “Yvonne,” he said, “you will come and share my life again--in a new world, where everything is beautiful--? I have been growing old there, without you. You will make me young again, and the blessing of God will be upon us. I must have you with me, Yvonne. I cannot live in peace without your smile and your happiness around me. My child--”
His voice grew thick with emotion. He stood up and stretched out his arms to her. Yvonne rose timidly and advanced toward him, drawn by his pleading. But just as his hands were about to touch her, she hung back.
“You must ask Stephen for me,” she said, in her serious, simple way.
His hands fell to his sides, in a gesture of impatience.
“Impossible. How can I do such a thing? It would be absurd.”
Her tiny figure, the plaintiveness of her upturned face, the wistfulness of her soft eyes, brought back to him a flood of memories. She was still the same sweet, innocent soul. The lines about his lips relaxed into a smile, and he took her, yielding passively, into his arms and kissed her cheek.
“I will do what you like, dear,” he said, in a low voice. “Anything in the world to win you again. I will ask him. It will be making reparation. And then you will marry me?”
“Yes,” murmured Yvonne faintly, “I promised you.”
“Why did you not write to me again?” he asked, still holding her hands.
“I was going to write when the answer came,” she said, looking down. “But no answer did come. And then, I was content to help Stephen.”
“You could have helped Stephen, all the same.”