'Allow me to look,' interposed Nevill. 'I'm no end of a swell at watches. A fellow who is always kicking about must know a lot about watches. When you are out West, you don't always care to ask Dog's Tail or Sitting Bull what he thinks of the sanitary condition of your watch. No, it's not the mainspring. The mainspring is all right. Stop, there's a jeweller's just at the end of the Row. I'll run out and let him have a look at it. Perhaps he can put it right before Miss Osborne comes down. I shall be back in twenty minutes or a little less.'
As he spoke he left the room. When he found himself in the passage he looked around furtively. No one was in view. He hastily raised the watch to his lips and kissed it, whispering,--
'I wanted that; and there was no good in my staying and spoiling sport.'
When he had gone, Miss Gordon moved still closer to where Osborne sat spellbound by admiration.
Insensibly he rose and held out his hand. She gave him hers.
'I never saw you looking so lovely before,' he said slowly--he retained her hand, and kept his eyes fixed on her face--'never.'
'I am glad to hear you say so,' she answered gently. She looked up at him for an instant, and blushed and smiled. 'Do you like this hat as well to-day as the first time you saw it?'
'I like the owner a thousand times better.'
'I have forgotten nothing you have ever told me, child.'
'You recollect I said if I put on that hat I should put on my saucy manner?'
'I recollect all you said, child. What of it?'
'You would be sorry if I put this hat off for ever?'
'You would be sorry if I put away my saucy manner for ever?'
'Your sweeter manner becomes you better.'
'This morning, when I was looking at the sky, I saw all at once how foolish I had been, and how wise you are.'
'My child, my child, my precious child! My God, I thank Thee. You will never take away from me your sweeter manner?'
'You will never take away from me this sweetest hand?'
'Sweet is the kiss that comes alone with willingness. My love, my love, my life, my life, my child, my darling child, my wife! Does that word "wife" affright you, Marie?'
He knew he could not sleep that night, so did not undress when he went to his room. For awhile he walked up and down in suppressed excitement. This was the most important day of his life. She, whom his heart had set above all other earthly prizes, had consented to be his for ever. Intoxicating thought! For ever! He should now be specially privileged to see her every day. Every day, until she became his finally, and then no power on earth could take her from him for an hour. His own, his darling, his most beautiful and amiable Marie. He should not call her Marie. It had an unfamiliar, foreign sound. But how sweet and dutiful and homely sounded Mary! It was the gentlest and the dearest name borne by woman. His gentlest and his dearest love. What a gift bounteous Providence had bestowed on him that day! All life ought to be one long thanksgiving for this rich boon.