They had some little time to wait for the train, and Joseph, after vainly pressing some refreshment on Ida, went into the refreshment-room and got a drink for himself and a cup of coffee for Isabel, while Ida sank back into a corner of the carriage and waited for them.  Joseph talked during the whole of the journey in an excited fashion, darting glances every now and then from his small eyes at the white face in the corner.  When they got out at the station, he offered Ida his arm and she took it half-unconsciously.  The path was too narrow to permit of three to walk abreast, and Joseph sent Isabel on in front; and on some trivial excuse or another contrived to lag some little distance behind her.  Every now and then he pressed Ida’s arm more closely to his side, looking at her with sidelong and lingering glances, and at last he said, in a kind of whisper, so that Isabel should not hear: 

“I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself, Ida, and that you’re glad you came?  I don’t know when I’ve had such a jolly night, and I hope we may have many more of them.  Of course you know why I’m so happy?  It’s because I’ve got you with me.  Life’s been a different thing for me since you came to live with us; but I dessay you’ve seen that, haven’t you?” He laughed knowingly.

“I have seen—­what?” asked Ida, trying to rouse herself and to pay attention to what he was saying.

“I say I suppose you’ve seen how it is with me, Ida, and why I am an haltered being?  It is you who have done it; it’s because I’m right down in love with you.  There, I’ve said it now!  I’ve been going to say it for days past; but, somehow, though I dessay you don’t mean it, you seem so cold and standoffish, and quite different to other girls when a man pays them attention.  But I dessay you understand now, and you’ll treat me differently.  I’m awfully in love with you, Ida, and I don’t see why we shouldn’t be engaged.  I’m getting on at the office, and if I can squeeze some money out of the guv’nor, I shall set up for myself.  Of course, there’ll be a pretty how-d’y-do over this at home, for they’re always wanting me to marry money, and unfortunately you’ve lost yours.  Not that I mind that, mind you.  I believe in following the dictates of your ’eart, and I know what my ’eart says.  And now what do you say, Ida?”

And he pressed her arm and looked into her face with a confident smile.

Ida drew her disengaged hand across her brow and frowned, as if she were trying to grasp his meaning.

“I—­I beg your pardon, Joseph,” she said.  “I didn’t quite understand—­I was thinking of something else.  You were asking me—­”

He reddened and pushed his thick lips out with an expression of resentment.

“Well, I like that!” he said, uneasily, but with an attempt at a laugh.  “I’ve just been proposing to you—­asking you to be my wife; and you’re going to, aren’t you?”