s telling her. There had been nothing of
embarrassment to him in the work of proposing to Polly Neefit. There
may perhaps have been other passages in his life of the same nature,
and he certainly had not feared them beforehand or been ashamed of
them afterwards. But now he found himself endeavouring to think what
words he would use to Mary Bonner, and in what attitude he would
stand or sit as he used them. "The truth is," he said to himself, "a
man should do these kind of things without premeditation." But not
the less was he resolved, and at the gate he jumped out of his cab
with a determination to have it over as soon as possible. He desired
the cabman to wait for him at the nearest stables, remarking that
he might be there for a few minutes, or for a few hours, and then
turned to the gate. As he did so, he saw Sir Thomas walking from the
direction of Fulham Bridge. Sir Thomas had come down by the railway
on the other side of the river, and was now walking home. A sudden
thought struck the young Squire. He would begin his work by telling
his tale to Sir Thomas. There could be nothing so fitting as that he
should obtain the uncle's leave to address the niece.

The two men greeted each other, and there were many things to be
said. Sir Thomas had not seen his ward since the old Squire's death,
and Ralph had not seen Sir Thomas since the election at Percycross
and the accident of the broken arm. Sir Thomas was by far too
reticent, too timid, and too reflective a man to begin at once
whatever observations he might have to make ultimately in regard to
Miss Polly Neefit. He was somewhat slow of speech, unless specially
aroused, and had hardly received the congratulations of his young
friend respecting the election, and expressed with some difficult
decency his sorrow for the old Squire's death as combined with his
satisfaction that the estate had not been sacrificed, when Ralph
stopped him just as they had reached the front door, and, with much
solemnity of manner, declared his wish to make a very particular
private communication to Sir Thomas. "Certainly," said Sir Thomas,
"certainly. Come into my room." But there was some delay before this
privacy could be achieved, for in the hall they were met by the
three girls, and of course there were many things to be said by them.
Clarissa could hardly repress the flutter of her heart. When the
reader last saw her flutter, and last heard her words as she spoke of
her love to her co