as he went pale--"thinking
of everybody on Bylow Hill. Why--why, dear heart, don't you see? When
you"--

"Oh, enough, enough, my angel! I take the question back!"

"You _made_ me think of everybody, Arthur, you were so sudden. Just
suppose I had done so to you!" They both thought that worthy of a good
laugh. "Next time, dear," added Isabel,--"no, no, no, but--next time,
you mustn't be so sudden. There's no need, you know,"--she blushed
again,--"and I promise you I'll give my whole mind to it! Get me some of
that hawthorn bloom yonder, and let's go back."

IV

AND BRING DOWN THE REMAINDER

This "hill path" was a narrowed continuance of the street, that led
gradually down along the hill's steep face to reach the town and the
river meadows. Godfrey, halting before Ruth and her brother, watched the
blooming hawthorn, over there, bend and shake and straighten and bend
again, above Arthur's unseen hands. Then, glancing furtively back toward
Mrs. Morris, he muttered to Ruth, while Leonard gravely looked out
across the landscape, "I live and learn."

"So we learn to live," was Ruth's playful reply. To her it was painfully
clear that Mrs. Morris, very sweetly no doubt, had eluded Godfrey's
endeavors to inform her of anything not to his brother's unqualified
praise. In the Bylow Hill group, Ruth had a way of smiling abstractedly,
which was very dear to Godfrey even when it meant he had best say no
more; and this smile had just said this to him when Isabel and Arthur
came into view again. As the two and the three drifted toward each
other, Ruth let Leonard outstep her, and joined Godfrey with a light in
her face that quickened his pulse.

After a word or two of slight import she said, as they slowly walked,
"Godfrey."

"Yes," eagerly responded the lover.

"Down in the garden, awhile ago--did I--promise something?"

"You most certainly did!" She had promised that if he would let a
certain subject drop she would bring it up again, herself, before he
must take his leave.

"And must you go very soon, now?" she asked.

"I've only a few minutes left," said the lover, with a lover's license.

"Well, I'm ready to speak. Of course, Godfrey, I know my heart."

The young man smiled ruefully. "I've known mine till I'm dead tired of
the acquaintance."

Other words passed, her eyes on the ground as they loitered, and after a
pause she murmured:--"But I've known my heart as long as you've known
yours."

"You've kno