Like a condemned criminal, Coristine was
conducted to the piano; but the first few bars put vigour into him, and
he sang the piece through with credit. He was compelled, of course, to
return thanks for the excellent accompaniment, but this he did in a
stiff formal way, as if the musician was an entire stranger. Then they
had prayers, for the gentlemen had come in out of the office, and,
afterwards, the clergymen went home. As the inmates of Bridesdale
separated for the night, Miss Carmichael handed the lawyer his ring,
saying that since his hands were fit to dispense with gloves, they must
also be strong enough to bear its weight. He accepted the ring with a
sigh, and silently retired to his chamber. Before turning in for the
night, he looked in upon Wilkinson, whom he found awake. After enquiries
as to his arm and general health, he said: "Wilks, my boy, congratulate
me on being an ass; I've lost the finest woman in all the world by my
own stupidity." His friend smiled at him, and answered: "Do not be
down-hearted, Corry; I will speak to Ceci--Miss Du Plessis I mean, and
she will arrange matters for you.
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