But this can wait for a future occasion--say in a day or
two."

"Then I presume there will be no objection to my seeing Miss Sherwin
now?"

"None whatever---at once, if you like. This way, my dear Sir; this way,"
and he led me across the passage, into the dining-room.

This apartment was furnished with less luxury, but with more bad taste
(if possible) than the room we had just left. Near the window sat
Margaret--it was the same window at which I had seen her, on the evening
when I wandered into the square, after our meeting in the omnibus. The
cage with the canary-bird hung in the same place. I just noticed--with
a momentary surprise--that Mrs. Sherwin was sitting far away from
her daughter, at the other end of the room; and then placed myself by
Margaret's side. She was dressed in pale yellow--a colour which gave new
splendour to her dark complexion and magnificently dark hair. Once more,
all my doubts, all my self-upbraidings vanished, and gave place to the
exquisite sense of happiness, the glow of joy and hope and love which
seemed to rush over my heart, the moment I looked at her.

After staying in the room about five minutes, Mr. Sherwin whispered to
his wife, and left us. Mrs. Sherwin still kept her place; but she said
nothing, and hardly turned to look round at us more than once or twice.
Perhaps she was occupied by her own thoughts; perhaps, from a motive of
delicacy, she abstained even from an appearance of watching her daughter
or watching me. Whatever feelings influenced her, I cared not to
speculate on them. It was enough that I had the privilege of speaking
to Margaret uninterruptedly; of declaring my love at last, without
hesitation and without reserve.

How much I had to say to her, and how short a time seemed to be left me
that evening to say it in! How short a time to tell her all the thoughts
of the past which she had created in me; all the self-sacrifice to which
I had cheerfully consented for her sake; all the anticipations of future
happiness which were concentrated in her, which drew their very breath
of life, only from the prospect of her rewarding love! She spoke but
little; yet even that little it was a new delight to hear. She smiled
now; she let me take her hand, and made no attempt to withdraw it.
The evening had closed in; the darkness was stealing fast upon us; the
still, dead-still figure of Mrs. Sherwin, always in the same place
and the same attitude, grew fainter and fainter to th