She flung her arms round him, bent down over him, holding his bowed head to her breast. She was half-sister, half-mother, protector, guardian, as well as his love. Tender, domestic affection, unabashed, as well as the strong passion of the woman, shone in the eyes with which she turned to the weeping spectator. ‘Do you think you or anyone will ever part me from Jack?’ she said. ‘Oh, children, do not break my heart! Your father will never, never consent--and Percy--and everybody who knows. Jack, for pity’s sake, tell her, tell her! She will listen, perhaps, to you.’ It was a minute at least, a long, long time, before John raised himself, detaching those dear arms. ‘Elly,’ he said, ‘I am my father’s son. People have distrusted me all my life, and I never knew why. They may distrust me yet, and I will know the reason, and God knows what it may make of me. No, I know that your father will not consent.’ ‘And a girl’s own mind is nothing,’ she cried, indignant, ‘I know you all think so, whatever you may say.’ John turned to Mrs. Egerton with a piteous look. ‘It is you that must tell her,’ he said, ‘how can I do it? I’m young, too. I only know you mustn’t decide, Elly, at your age. You don’t know the world; you don’t know what you’re doing. If everything had been straightforward with me, you are still above me, gentlefolks, while I am nobody. You said so----’ ‘Oh, Jack, Jack!’ said Mrs. Egerton, as if this was a reproach. ‘Everything is straightforward with you,’ said Elly. She had drawn away from him with a little movement of pride. ‘But,’ she said, ‘it is true enough. I don’t know the world, and neither do you. Perhaps we are too young. If you say that, or if Aunt Mary says that, I will not make any objection, Jack--how should I? I don’t want to force you to--to have me before the time----’ The extreme youth of both gave them a simplicity of words and good faith which elder lovers could not have ventured on. He accepted what she said in all seriousness and humility. ‘But there’s more than that,’ he said. ‘Oh, Elly, I can’t deny it, I can’t disguise it, there’s more than that. If it was only that we were too young! But everything is against us. And how could I, loving you all my life, owing everything to you as I do----’ ‘You owe me nothing, nothing, Jack! It is all the other way.’ ‘Ah, don’t say that, for I know better. I was just thinking--it’s all you, Elly. I should have gone into an office, or wherever they pleased to put me. I should not have minded. It was all your lighthouse. And to think,’ said Jack, as if that furnished him with a new argument, ‘that I should bring you to shame! Never, Elly; I would rather die.’ He paused a moment and shook his head. ‘It’s no good talking of dying, is it, at my age? I’d rather--live alone as I’ve always done, and do my work the best I could, and agree that there was nothing more for me in this world.’