me here in the mind to ask
you?"

"Yes." He saw the quick rise and fall of her bosom; he noticed the
almost terrified look of her eyes. Was that how women showed their happy
agitation when their lovers claimed them? Poor little Nell! How easily
frightened she was! She had turned quite pale. He would have to be very
good to her in the days to come.

"Haven't you kept me waiting long enough, little girl?" he went on with
a tenderness which might easily have passed for a lover's. "I've been
very patient, haven't I? But now my patience has come to an end. When
are you going to fix a date for our marriage?"

"We have been very happy," began Nelly with trembling lips.

"Not so happy as we are going to be. God knows, Nell, I will do my best
to make you happy, and may God bless my best!"

As he said it the scent of some little plant, bruised beneath his feet,
rose to his nostrils, sharply aromatic. It was the wild thyme, the
fragrance of which had hung about him those few days back, no matter how
he tried to banish it.

"I will be very good to you, Nelly, if you can trust me with yourself."

It was not the least bit in the world like the love-making of Nelly's
dreams. To be sure, he was good and kind, the dear, kind old Robin he
had always been. She was grateful that he was not more lover-like
according to her ideals. If he had taken her in his arms and kissed her
passionately like that other--she smelt lilies of the valley where Robin
Drummond smelt the wild thyme--she could not have endured it. As it was,
she answered him sweetly.

"I know you will be good to me, Robin. When were you ever anything but
good?"

Then he kissed her, a light kiss that brushed her lips. He felt his own
shortcomings as a lover when he saw the blood rush tumultuously to her
face, cover even her neck. Why, she must care for him with some passion
to blush like that for his kiss. He had no idea that it was the memory
of another kiss which had caused that wild flush of colour.

"Well, Nell, when is it to be?" he asked, trying to galvanise himself
out of his coldness, trying to make the pity and tenderness which she
awoke in him take the place of passion.

"When you will, Robin."

"You will never repent it, God helping me," he said again.

They came back, as they were expected to, with things settled between
them. Robin had consulted a calendar in his pocket-book and named a
date--Thursday, 23rd of July. He would be free then. The House wo