"
"Have we at last arrived at an understanding?" she asked, with a grave
directness which Bernard thought the most beautiful thing he had ever
seen.
"It only depends upon you," he declared; and then he broke out again
into a protestation of passionate tenderness. "Don't put me off this
time," he cried. "You have had time to think about it; you have had
time to get over the surprise, the shock. I love you, and I offer you
everything that belongs to me in this world." As she looked at him with
her dark, clear eyes, weighing this precious vow and yet not committing
herself--"Ah, you don't forgive me!" he murmured.
She gazed at him with the same solemn brightness.
"What have I to forgive you?"
This question seemed to him enchanting. He reached forward and took her
hands, and if Mrs. Vivian had come in she would have seen him kneeling
at her daughter's feet.
But Mrs. Vivian remained in seclusion, and Bernard saw her only the next
time he came.
"I am very happy, because I think my daughter is happy," she said.
"And what do you think of me?"
"I think you are very clever. You must promise me to be very good to
her."
"I am clever enough to promise that."
"I think you are good enough to keep it," said Mrs.
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