here Dundry Tower stands like a sentinel on guard over
the city, were bathed in the soft radiance of the April day, while now
and again the chime of bells was borne on the breeze.

For some minutes both were silent, Jack toying with the small pebbles at
his feet, Bryda gazing out at the hills where her home lay hid, and
forgetting poor Jack's presence in her own meditation. Jack was the
first to break the silence. There had sprung up between him and Bryda,
since Christmas, a certain reserve which seemed to raise a barrier
between him and his fondest hopes.

'I say, Bryda,' he began, 'I am very unhappy. Can't you give me a kind
word?'

'Why, Jack, what is the matter?' she said carelessly. 'I thought I was
unhappy this morning, but now I think no one ought to be sad to-day. So
the bells tell me. Hearken!'

'I am sad, though,' poor Jack rejoined. 'I love you, Bryda. You must
know it. I have loved you all my life--I shall love you till I die. I am
tied to this silversmith's business--but my uncle has no children, he
takes more kindly to me than he did, and the last year I have pleased
him better. When he dies I shall come into the business, and then--'

Bryda turned and looked straight into Jack's frank, honest face. She
tried to speak lightly.

'So after all, Jack, your mother was right, and you will be a Bristol
alderman some day, or perhaps mayor.'

Jack's foot gave an impatient kick against the pebbles beneath it.

'What has that to do with the question?' he said. 'Bryda, can you care
for me? Can you love me? That's the real question.'

'Jack, I have always cared for you, you know that. Now let us talk of
something else.'

'No,' Jack said, 'I am not to be put off like this. Give me a plain
answer. When I can give you all you ought to have, you know, will you be
my wife? I love you so that if you can't promise to be my wife I don't
care what becomes of me. I shall be off in one of the ships from the
quay, and get drowned--drown myself, I daresay.'

'Nonsense, Jack; be sensible. I do not feel as if I could promise to
marry anybody. There is trouble at home, and I am thinking more of that
just now than anything else,' and in spite of herself her colour
deepened on her cheeks and the tears dimmed her eyes.

'Look here, Bryda, has that villain Bayfield anything to do with this?
Do you care for _him_? I hear he has been gallivanting after you, curse
him.'

'Hush, Jack. On this beautiful day--Easter day--don't