"Do not make it hard for me by bearing malice!" he implored, breaking
off his explanation.
"I don't quite understand. Are you telling me that you have kept me
here unnecessarily?"
"Alas! my boy--I hoped that your affection for me might grow with
this opportunity, as mine has grown for you."
Tristram thought that to spend a morning in pacing from one window to
another was an odd way of encouraging affection; but he merely
answered:
"My dear father, I have a confession to make."
"A confession?"
"One that will not only explain my eagerness to get home, but also
will, I trust, soothe your disappointment. The fact is, I am in
love."
"Oh! that certainly alters matters. With whom?"
"With Sophia."
"Who is Sophia?"
"She is Captain Runacles' only daughter, and lives on the other side
of our hedge."
"My dear lad, why did you not tell me this? Detain you! No.
You shall fly on the wings of the wind. We will set out this very
afternoon on the swiftest horses this inn can furnish."
Tristram winced. "There are limits even to a lover's zeal," he
murmured.
"No, no. Ah, my boy!--I too have been in love--I can find the key to
your feelings by searching my memory. May you be happier than I!"
He passed the back of his hand across his eyes and continued more
cheerfully, hilariously almost:
"But away with an old man's memories! I was young then, and ardent
as you.
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