"
"Yes, William?" The old man had immediately offered his hand, and he
looked up with a puzzled and anxious expression.
"I merely wish to assure you, Mr. Bates, very sincerely, that if you
at this moment could see right into my heart, you'd plainly see my
respect, and what is more, my true affection for you, sir."
"I believe it, William."
"And it has always been a source of comfort to me to think that you,
sir, have entertained a most kindly feeling to me, sir."
Mr. Bates had averted his eyes, and he moved his feet restlessly, his
demeanor seeming to indicate that he regretted having accepted the
supper invitation and was perhaps desirous of withdrawing his
acceptance.
"I hope," Dale went on, "I haven't been presumptuous in my estimate of
your feeling, sir."
"No." And the old man looked up again. His eyes, his whole face had
grown soft, and the tone of his voice was firm, yet rather low and
very sweet. "No, William, my feeling for you began in taking note of
your sharpness combined with your steady ways, and it has ended in
love."
"That's a large word, Mr. Bates."
"It's no larger than the truth."
"Then I say 'Thank you, sir, for the honor you have done me.'" Dale
pressed the old chap's hand, dropped it, and returned to the high
stool.
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