heart had long since
given. Having made his purchase he took train from Liverpool Street to
Exboro', from which place he would have to walk to Shenton, where he
could not arrive until one o'clock in the morning. He had performed some
miles of his walk across the hills, and was within an appreciable
distance of Braley Brook, when he observed a dark figure crouching on a
fallen tree. He was at first a little startled, for it was most unusual
to meet anyone in this place, above all at such an hour: it was after
midnight. On coming nearer he saw that the figure was that of a woman.
It might be one of the cottagers from Shenton--who had been to Exboro'
and been taken ill on the way home--he would see.

He came close and touched the crouching figure, and asked gently, "Are
you ill? Can I do anything for you?"

The figure started violently and looked up at him, and in the starlight
he recognised the face of Nancy Forest.

In a moment he was seated on the fallen tree beside her, and had placed
his arm about her. "Nancy, dearest Nancy," he cried, pressing burning
kisses on her cold cheek--the first he had ever given her. "Nancy, speak
to me; tell me what is the meaning of your being here."

But she could not answer him then; she simply laid her cheek against his
shoulder and wept bitterly. But she did tell him all presently; and he
told her what he had long since wished to tell, and they walked together
to the old farm, for, of course, Nancy must return to her parents for a
little time--only a very little time, they decided. When they reached
the farm, John Forest and his wife were standing by the round table in
the house-place, where the half-sovereign lay. John was hard and
relentless; his wife was sobbing aloud. And then the door opened, and
Nancy and Fred stood before them.

With a wild cry, Eliza Forest clasped her daughter to her heart,
imploring her forgiveness. "My temper 'welly' worried me this time,
Nancy," she said; "but after this I will worry _it_."

So here the story properly ends, for Mr. Hurst, to the surprise of
everyone, yielded a ready consent to the marriage, and even offered an
allowance to the young couple and one of his small farms to live in.
Miss Sabina allowed her old interest in Nancy to revive, and sent her
the material for her wedding dress, which Miss Michin announced her
intention of making up herself--every stitch. Nor was this all. Mrs.
Dodd, the worthy post-mistress, with whom Nancy had al