He eagerly apologized. He was
perfectly aware of her extraordinary merits, and should be entirely
lost without her help. The fact was he had had a painful scene, and
was overdone.
Elizabeth received his explanation very coldly, only repeating, 'May
I go to bed?'
The Squire drew his hand across his eyes.
'It is not very late--not yet eleven.' He pointed to the grandfather
clock opposite. 'If you will only wait while I write something?'--he
pointed to a chair. 'Just take a book there, and give me a quarter
of an hour, no more--I want your signature, that's all. We won't
look any further for the will. I can do all I want by a fresh
document. I have been thinking it over, and can write it in ten
minutes. I know as much about it as the lawyers--more. Now do oblige
me. I am ashamed of my discourtesy. I need not say that I regard you
as indispensable--and--I think I have been able to do something for
your Greek.'
He smiled--a smile that was like a foam-flake on a stormy sea. But
he could put on the grand manner when he chose, and Elizabeth was to
some extent propitiated.
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