A footman in livery was coming up the stairs. He bore a card on a
silver salver.
"The gentleman is in the drawing-room, miss," he said.
I took the card, rushed past the astonished servant, and untidy and
discomposed, tears scarcely dried on my cheeks, entered the
drawing-room.
My cousin Tom was standing by one of the windows. When he heard my step
he turned quickly round, advanced a pace or two, then stood still, a
crimson wave of colour dyeing his darkly-bronzed cheeks, and his white
brow. He looked confused, awkward, uncertain. I, on the contrary, had
no room in my over-full heart for embarrassment.
"I have sent for you, Cousin Tom," I said, "to say that I will marry you
as soon as ever you will have me." I looked him full in the face as I
spoke, and when I had finished I held out one of my hands for him to
take.
He stared at me for a moment in absolute astonishment. Then a queer
change came over his whole face. It became irradiated with the sweetest
and most joyful light. He took my slim fingers between his two great
hands, and almost crushed them.
"And I would marry you to-morrow, Rosamund," he said, "_not_ because of
Cousin Geoffrey's will, but because I love you for yourself. I love
you, Rosamund; I have loved you since--"
There came an interruption. The drawing-room door was banged noisily
open. Jack's voice was heard on the threshold. Hetty's gay, agitated
little treble followed it.
Tom Valentine dropped my hands.