"
And Dale delivered a serious little homily on the duties and pleasures
of wedlock, and concluded by telling Norah that when she had chosen
an honest proper sort of young fellow, neither himself nor Mrs. Dale
would stand in the way of her future happiness. "Yes, my dear, you'll
leave us then; and we shall miss you greatly--both of us will miss you
very greatly, but we shan't either of us consider that. And you
mustn't consider it yourself. It's nature--quite proper and correct
that under those circumstances you should leave us."
"Never," said Norah. "Never--unless you send me away;" and stooping
her head on her arms, she began to cry.
"Oh, my dear, don't cry," said Dale bruskly. "What in the name of
reason is there to cry about?"
"Then say you won't send me away," sobbed Norah. "Promise me you won't
do that."
"Of course I won't," said Dale, in the same brusk tone. "That is,
unless I'm morally certain that--"
"No, no--never."
"Oh, don't be silly. Dry your eyes, and be sensible;" and Dale,
plunging his hands in his pockets, hurried out of the office.
He walked as far as the Baptist Chapel, and straight back again; and
before he got home he made a solemn resolution to rouse himself from
the idle lethargic state into which he felt himself slipping deeper
and deeper.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377