He drew her closer still and kissed her lovingly. "Tell me, Clara," he
said, looking down into her face,--he was at least a foot taller than
she,--"when I am to have my answer."

"Will you take the answer you can get to-night?" she asked with a wan
smile.

"I will take but one answer, Clara. But do not make me wait too long for
that. Why, just think of it! I have known you for six months."

"That is an extremely long time," said Clara, as they sat down side by
side.

"It has been an age," he rejoined. "For a fortnight of it, too, which
seems longer than all the rest, I have been waiting for my answer. I am
turning gray under the suspense. Seriously, Clara dear, what shall it
be? or rather, when shall it be? for to the other question there is but
one answer possible."

He looked into her eyes, which slowly filled with tears. She repulsed
him gently as he bent over to kiss them away.

"You know I love you, John, and why I do not say what you wish. You must
give me a little more time to make up my mind before I can consent to
burden you with a nameless wife, one who does not know who her mother
was"----

"She was a good woman, and beautiful, if you are at all like her."

"Or her father"----