We all had an early dinner together.  We sat after it a good while, and then Mr. Trelawny said: 

“Now, I think we had all better separate and go quietly to bed early.  We may have much to talk about tomorrow; and tonight I want to think.”

Doctor Winchester went away, taking, with a courteous forethought, Mr. Corbeck with him, and leaving me behind.  When the others had gone Mr. Trelawny said: 

“I think it will be well if you, too, will go home for tonight.  I want to be quite alone with my daughter; there are many things I wish to speak of to her, and to her alone.  Perhaps, even tomorrow, I will be able to tell you also of them; but in the meantime there will be less distraction to us both if we are alone in the house.”  I quite understood and sympathised with his feelings; but the experiences of the last few days were strong on me, and with some hesitation I said: 

“But may it not be dangerous?  If you knew as we do—­” To my surprise Margaret interrupted me: 

“There will be no danger, Malcolm.  I shall be with Father!” As she spoke she clung to him in a protective way.  I said no more, but stood up to go at once.  Mr. Trelawny said heartily: 

“Come as early as you please, Ross.  Come to breakfast.  After it, you and I will want to have a word together.”  He went out of the room quietly, leaving us together.  I clasped and kissed Margaret’s hands, which she held out to me, and then drew her close to me, and our lips met for the first time.

I did not sleep much that night.  Happiness on the one side of my bed and Anxiety on the other kept sleep away.  But if I had anxious care, I had also happiness which had not equal in my life—­or ever can have.  The night went by so quickly that the dawn seemed to rush on me, not stealing as is its wont.

Before nine o’clock I was at Kensington.  All anxiety seemed to float away like a cloud as I met Margaret, and saw that already the pallor of her face had given to the rich bloom which I knew.  She told me that her father had slept well, and that he would be with us soon.

“I do believe,” she whispered, “that my dear and thoughtful Father has kept back on purpose, so that I might meet you first, and alone!”

After breakfast Mr. Trelawny took us into the study, saying as he passed in: 

“I have asked Margaret to come too.”  When we were seated, he said gravely: 

“I told you last night that we might have something to say to each other.  I dare say that you may have thought that it was about Margaret and yourself.  Isn’t that so?”

“I thought so.”

“Well, my boy, that is all right.  Margaret and I have been talking, and I know her wishes.”  He held out his hand.  When I wrung it, and had kissed Margaret, who drew her chair close to mine, so that we could hold hands as we listened, he went on, but with a certain hesitation—­it could hardly be called nervousness—­which was new to me.