nd forth, over and
under, filling up the hole with a deftness which even his Aunt Hannah
could not have excelled. But Neil saw only her soft, girlish beauty, and
cared nothing for her deftness and thrift. In fact he was really
rebelling hotly against the whole thing--the socks, the yarn, the
porcelain ball, and more than all, the darning-needle she handled so
skillfully. What had the future Mrs. Neil McPherson to do with such
coarse things? he thought, as, forgetful of his mother's anger, he
began:

"I say, Bessie, I wish you would stop that infernal weaving back and
forth with that darning-needle, which looks so like an implement of
warfare and makes me shudder every time you jab it into the wool. I want
to talk to you."

"Talk on; I can listen and work too. I have neglected father's socks of
late and have ever so many pairs to mend," Bessie said, pointing to the
piled-up basket, without looking at the flushed, eager face bending
close to her.

But when Neil took her hands in his, and removing from them the sock and
darning-needle, said to her, "Bessie, I did not mean to tell you, at
least not yet, but I cannot keep it any longer. I love you and want you
for my wife," she looked up an instant, and then her eyes fell before
the passionate face, and she cried:

"Oh, Neil! You are not in earnest! You do not mean what you say. You
cannot want _me_. I am so very poor. I must take care of my father, and
then--there is--there is--oh, Neil, I am sorry if it is wrong to say
it--there is my mother!"

She put the whole hard facts before him at once, her poverty, her
father, for whom she must always care, and her mother, the greatest
obstacle of all.

"I know all that. Don't you suppose I thought it out before I spoke?"
Neil said, drawing her closer to him as he continued: "I am going to
tell you the whole truth about myself, and show you my very worst. I am
a great, lazy, selfish fellow, and have never in my life done any one
any good. I have lived for myself and my pleasure alone. I am not one
quarter as good as Grey Jerrold, or even Jack Trevellian."

At the mention of Grey, Bessie gave a little start, for a thought of him
seemed to cast a shadow over the sky, which for a moment had been very
bright, if Neil really and truly loved her. But the shadow passed as
Neil went on, rapidly:

"I never had any home training; that is, never met any opposition to my
wishes. Everything bent to me until I came to believe myself su