"
"This suspense is intolerable," murmured Arthur Bernard to himself,
while in blissful unconsciousness his companion went on. "Why does he
not speak her name out clearly, and put an end to this torture, which
racks every nerve of my frame?"
"And now, Arthur, I want your advice. Woman-hater as you are,"--Clifford
said with a smile.
"I suppose Agnes told him that, she thought so herself, no doubt," was
Arthur's mental parenthesis.
"Woman-hater as you are, I know you deem my hopes and fears as both
unfounded; but, never mind, you will, I trust, know by experience some
day or other, so, in consideration of that coming, happy time, will you
inform me in what terms I can possibly have the presumption, to request
of the lady's relative, that he graciously permit her to bestow her hand
upon your humble servant?"
"I do not foresee any difficulty," said Arthur, with a tremulous effort
at composure. "The lady's consent once secured, I should think all
others of comparatively little moment, and with the knowledge that her
happiness depends on their sanction, it will, I believe, be readily
accorded.
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