t without speaking; a
certain suspicion looming in her eyes, as if suggested by his perceptible
want of ease.

'How like summer it is getting to feel, is it not?' she said.

John admitted that it was getting to feel like summer: and, bending his
gaze upon her with an earnestness which no longer left any doubt of his
subject, went on to ask--

'Have you ever in these last weeks thought of how it used to be between
us?'

She replied quickly, 'O, John, you shouldn't begin that again. I am
almost another woman now!'

'Well, that's all the more reason why I should, isn't it?'

Anne looked thoughtfully to the other end of the garden, faintly shaking
her head; 'I don't quite see it like that,' she returned.

'You feel yourself quite free, don't you?'

'_Quite_ free!' she said instantly, and with proud distinctness; her eyes
fell, and she repeated more slowly, 'Quite free.' Then her thoughts
seemed to fly from herself to him. 'But you are not?'

'I am not?'

'Miss Johnson!'

'O--that woman! You know as well as I that was all make-up, and that I
never for a moment thought of her.'

'I had an idea you were acting; but I wasn't sure.'

'Well, that's nothing now. Anne, I want to relieve your life; to cheer
you in some way; to make some amends for my brother's bad conduct. If
you cannot love me, liking will be well enough. I have thought over
every side of it so many times--for months have I been thinking it
over--and I am at last sure that I do right to put it to you in this way.
That I don't wrong Bob I am quite convinced. As far as he is concerned
we be both free. Had I not been sure of that I would never have spoken.
Father wants me to take on the mill, and it will please him if you can
give me one little hope; it will make the house go on altogether better
if you can think o' me.'

'You are generous and good, John,' she said, as a big round tear bowled
helter-skelter down her face and hat-strings.

'I am not that; I fear I am quite the opposite,' he said, without looking
at her. 'It would be all gain to me-- But you have not answered my
question.'

She lifted her eyes. 'John, I cannot!' she said, with a cheerless smile.
'Positively I cannot. Will you make me a promise?'

'What is it?'

'I want you to promise first-- Yes, it is dreadfully unreasonable,' she
added, in a mild distress. 'But do promise!'

John by this time seemed to have a feeling that it was all up with him
for the present.