Then the discreet head-servant knocked and told them that Mrs Broughton was very anxious to see Mr Dalrymple, but that Miss Van Siever was on no account to go away.  She was up, and in her dressing-gown, and had gone into the sitting-room.  ‘I will come directly,’ said Dalrymple, and the discreet head-servant retired.

‘Clara,’ said Conway, ’I do not know when I may have another chance of asking for an answer to my question.  You heard my question?’

‘Yes, I heard it.’

‘And will you answer it?’

‘If you wish it, I will.’

’Of course I wish it.  You understand what I said upon the door-step yesterday?’

’I don’t think much of that; men say those things so often.  What you said before was serious, I suppose?’

‘Serious!  Heavens!  Do you think that I am joking?’

‘Mamma wants me to marry Mr Musselboro.’

‘He is a vulgar brute.  It would be impossible.’

’It is impossible; but mamma is very obstinate.  I have no fortune of my own—­not a shilling.  She told me today that she would turn me out into the street.  She forbade me to come here, thinking I should meet you; but I came, because I had promised Mrs Broughton.  I am sure that she will never give me one shilling.’

Dalrymple paused for a moment.  It was certainly true that he had regarded Clara Van Siever as an heiress, and had at first been attracted to her because he thought it expedient to marry an heiress.  But there had since come something beyond that, and there was perhaps less of regret than most men would have felt as he gave up his golden hopes.  He took her into his arms and kissed her, and called her his own.  ’Now we understand each other,’ he said.

‘If you wish it to be so.’

‘I do wish it.’

’And I shall tell my mother today that I am engaged to you—­unless she refuses to see me.  Go to Mrs Broughton now.  I feel that we are almost cruel to be thinking of ourselves in this house at such a time.’  Upon this Dalrymple went, and Clara Van Siever was left to her reflections.  She had never before had a lover.  She had never had even a friend whom she loved and trusted.  Her life had been passed at school till she was nearly twenty, and since then had been vainly endeavouring to accommodate herself into the absolute power of a man who was nearly a strange to her!  But she did love him, as she had never loved anyone else;—­and then, on the other side, there was Mr Musselboro!

Dalrymple went upstairs for an hour, and Clara did not see him again before he left the house.  It was clear to her, from Mrs Broughton’s first words, that Conway had told her what had passed.  ’Of course I shall never seen anything more of either of you now?’ said Mrs Broughton.

‘I should say that probably you will see a great deal of us both.’

‘There are some people,’ said Mrs Broughton, ’who can do well for their friends, but can never do well for themselves.  I am one of them.  I saw at once how great a thing it would be for both of you to bring you two together—­especially for you, Clara; and therefore I did it.  I may say that I never had it out of my mind for months past.  Poor Dobbs misunderstood what I was doing.  God knows how far that may have brought about what has happened.’