onstant lover that you
were when, forty-five years ago, you went down on your knees to me by
the branch. We can't stifle those feelings of by-gone days which well
up in our bosoms, Robert. After all these years I have learned what a
prize your true love is, and I return it. I am yours."

At this Mr Brandon opened his mouth with a spasmodic gasp, but no word
came from him. He looked to the right and left, and then made a lunge
to one side, as if he would run around the old lady and gain the door.
But Mrs Keswick was too quick for him. With two sudden springs she
reached the door and put her back against it.

"Don't leave me, Robert," she said, "I have not told you all. Don't
you remember this breastpin?" unfastening the large silver brooch from
her shawl and holding it out to him. "You gave it to me, Robert; there
were almost tears of joy in your eyes on the first day I wore it,
although I was careful to let you know it meant nothing. Where are
those tears to-day, Robert? It means something now. I have kept it
all these years, although in the lifetime of Mr Keswick it was never
cleaned, and I wore it to-day, Robert, that your eyes might rest upon
it once again, and that you might speak to me the words you spoke to
me the day after I let you pin it on my white neckerchief. You waited
then, Robert, a whole day before you spoke, but you needn't wait now.
Let your heart speak out, dear Robert."

But dear Robert appeared to have no power to speak, on this or any
other subject. He was half sitting, half leaning on the corner of a
table which stood by a window, out of which he gave sudden agonized
and longing glances, as if, had he strength enough, he would raise the
sash and leap out.

The old lady, however, had speech enough for two. "Robert," she
exclaimed, "how happy may we be, yet! If you wish to give up, to a
younger couple, this spacious mansion, these fine grounds and noble
elms, and come to my humble home, I shall only say to you, 'Robert,
come!' I shall be alone there, Robert, and shall welcome you with joy.
I have nobody now to give anything to. The late Mrs Null, by which I
mean my niece, will marry a man who, if reports don't lie, is rich
enough to make her want nothing that I have; and as for Junius, he is
to have your property, as we all know. So all I have is yours, if you
choose to come to me, Robert. But, if you would rather live here, I
will come to you, and the young people can board with us until your