Mr. Wesden stared at Sidney long after he had concluded, and a pause had followed the outburst; Harriet Wesden, with a heightened colour, looked down at her white hands so tightly clasped together in her lap, and thought that it was a strange explanation--a strange hour for an explanation which he might have chosen his time to give to her alone. Surely she might have been offered an opportunity of giving an answer also, and spared that embarrassment with which his thoughtlessness had afflicted her. Could her father answer for _her_, as well as for himself! Mr. Wesden delivered his reply, after several moments' grave deliberation. "Mr. Sidney," said he, "I always did hate anything kept back, and doubted the honesty of anybody keeping it. The truth, however hard it may be to tell, will always bear the light upon it, I'm inclined to think." Harriet winced. "And you've spoken fair," he continued, "and given her up like a man. Now let her answer for herself; if she don't mind waiting till you're able to keep her--till you're forty or fifty, as you say," he added drily, "why, I shan't stand in opposition. The longer the engagement, the longer she'll be my daughter. There, can I put it in a fairer light than that that?" Sidney's harangue, or Sidney's father's port-wine, had rendered Mr. Wesden magnanimous as well as loquacious that evening; or else, in business, his better nature was developing anew. Now to such an answer as this, one can imagine Sidney Hinchford starting to his feet and wringing Mr. Wesden's hand, or turning suddenly to Harriet and looking earnestly, almost beseechingly, in her direction. On the contrary, he remained silent and moody; Mr. Wesden's answer was unprepared for, and his compliment to his straightforwardness brought a colour to Sidney's cheek--for, after all, he was keeping something back! There was a painful silence, broken at last by a low and faltering voice, the musical murmur of which drew Sidney's eyes towards her at last. "Has Mr. Sidney the patience to wait for me, or care for a long engagement, of which he may eventually tire?" "Patience!--care for an engagement!" he almost shouted. "Then when he asks me again," said Harriet, "I will give him my answer. But," with an arch smile towards him, "I will wait till I am asked." "Bless you, my dear girl!" exclaimed old Hinchford, "I feel like a father towards you already--as for waiting, every true boy and girl will wait for each other--why shouldn't they, if they love one another, eh, Sid?" His hand came heavily on Sid's shoulder, and knocked off his son's glasses. "Ah! why shouldn't they, if they are sure of love lasting all the long time between engagement and marriage. Harriet! dear Harriet!" he exclaimed, "I will ask you presently." "When the old fogies are out of the way, and the courtship can be carried on in the recondite style," cried his elated father; "a sly dog this, who will not be embarrassed by witnesses--eh, Wesden?"