Part 31 (1/2)
”But--but, my dear Reed, you must be a millionaire!”
”I suppose so,” said Clive quietly.
”Then it will be impossible. My poor child could not marry so wealthy a man.”
”Then I must make myself poor,” said Clive. ”Bah! what has money to do with it? Major Gurdon, I came down here to find rest and peace; let me find happiness as well, and that the world is not all base.”
”I hardly dare give consent,” faltered the Major. ”You are the first, sir, who has ever approached her in this way, and I could not help seeing how day by day she has brightened and seemed to grow more restful and content. It has been as if she felt that with you near she could be at rest, that you were at hand to protect her, and that the poor old father was growing to be n.o.body now. Ah! Reed, she has ceased to care for me as she used.”
”Father!”
”You there, Dinah? You heard what we said?”
”I heard you tell Mr Reed something that you cannot mean.”
”You heard no more?”
”No, dear; but why?”
She stopped short, with the colour flus.h.i.+ng to her cheeks, and her heart beating heavily, for Clive gently took her hand. His voice was very low, and there, in the soft darkness of the autumnal evening, he said earnestly--
”Miss Gurdon--Dinah--I have dared to tell your father that I love you with all my heart, and begged him to let me speak to you. Not as a dramatic lover, but as an earnest man, who would have but one thought, dear, if you gave him the right, to make your life peaceful and happy to the end. Dinah--my own love--can you give me that right?”
Her hand struggled in its prison for a moment, and then lay trembling there, as if too firmly held by the strong fingers which formed its cage.
”I--I fear--I ought not--I--”
She faltered these words painfully; and then, with an hysterical cry, she nestled to him.
”Yes, yes,” she cried; ”take me, and protect me, Clive. I do love you, and will love you to the end.”
”My darling!” he whispered, as he clasped her pa.s.sionately to his heart, just as the dog burst out into a furious volley of growls and barks, mingled with sounds as if he were struggling hard to tear away his chain.
Dinah nestled to him more closely, and the start she had given at the dog's barking gave place to a feeling of safety in those two strong arms.
”Are you content, sir?” said Clive, turning at last, as he drew Dinah's arm through his with a sense of possession which made his heart beat against it heavily.
But there was no reply, for the Major had gone off to see what had alarmed the dog.
”Nothing that I can see,” he said, upon his return. ”Why, of course!
Clever dog! He scented a thief.”
”A thief?”
”Yes, my dear, a scoundrel come to try and steal away my darling girl.”
”Ah!”
A low sigh and a s.h.i.+ver of horror, as Dinah shrank away to flee into the house; but as she felt Clive's arm tighten about her, she clung to him once more.
”Why, you silly child, don't you understand a joke?” cried the Major.