Part 111 (2/2)

'Well?'

'I have a great mind to tell you why I came to Southminster.'

'To look at a living?'

'To look at you. If I had found you pining and oppressed, I had thought of asking if you could put up with your father's old friend.'

She looked with eyes of wonder, drew her arm away, and stood still, partly bewildered. 'You didn't?' she said, half in interrogation.

'I saw my mistake; you were too young and gay. But, Cilla,' he added, more tremulously, 'if you do wish for a home--'

'Don't, don't!' she cried; 'I can't have you talk as if I only wanted a home!'

'And indeed I have none as yet,' he said. 'But do you indeed mean that you could think of it?'--and he came nearer.

'It! Nonsense! Of you!' she vehemently exclaimed. 'How could you think of anything else?'

'Cilla,' he said, in great agitation, 'let me know what you are saying.

Don't drive me crazy when it is not in the nature of things you should mean it!'

'Why not?' asked Lucilla. 'It is only too good for me.'

'Is it true, then?' he said, as he took both her hands in his. 'Is it true that you understand me, and are willing to be--to be my own--darling charge?'

'Oh, it would be such rest!'

It was as if the storm-tossed bird was folding its weary wing in perfect calm and confidence. Nor could he contain his sudden joy, but spoke incoherent words, and well-nigh wept over her.

'How did you come to think of it?' exclaimed she, as, the first gush of feeling over, they walked on arm-in-arm.

'I thought of it from the moment when I hoped I might be a resource, a comforter at least.'

'Not before?' was the rather odd question.

'No. The place was forlorn enough without you; but I was not such a fool as to think of a young beauty, and all that.'

'_All that_ meaning my wickedness,' said Lucilla. 'Tell me again. You always did like the sprite even when it was wicked, only you were too good and right-minded.'

'Too old and too poor.'

'She is old and poor now,' said Cilla; 'worn out and washed out into a mere rag. And you like her the better?'

'Not washed out!' he said, as her countenance flushed into more than its wonted loveliness. 'I used to wish you hadn't such a face when those insolent fellows talked of you--but you will get up your looks again when I have the care of you. The first college living--there are some that can't choose but drop before long! The worst is, I am growing no younger!'

'Ah! but I am growing older!' she cried, triumphantly. 'All women from twenty-five to forty are of the same age as all men from thirty to fifty.

We are of just the same standing, you see!'

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