-hammer, and she heard the quick step on the gravel
behind her.

She was busy with the long stem of the rose when he came up; she broke
it short and straightened up, smiling a little greeting, for she could
not have spoken for her life.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, under his breath.

Then the slow, clear words came, "I cannot."

"I love you," he said, as though he had not heard her. "There is nothing
for me in life without you; from the moment you came into my life there
was nothing else, nothing in heaven or earth but you--your loveliness,
your beauty, your hair, your hands, the echo of your voice haunting me,
the memory of your every step, your smile, the turn of your head--all
that I love in you--and all that I worship--your sweetness, your
loyalty, your bravery, your honor. Give me all this to guard, to
adore--try to love me; forget my faults, forgive all that I lack. I
know--_I_ know what I am--what little I have to offer--but it is all
that I am, all that I have. Constance! Constance! Must you refuse?"

"Did I refuse?" she faltered. "I don't know why I did."

With bare arm bent back and hand pressed over the hand that held her
waist imprisoned, she looked up into his eyes. Then their lips met.

"Say it," he whispered.

"Say it? Ah, I do say it: I love you--I love you. I said it years
ago--when you were a boy and I wore muslin gowns above my knees. Did you
think I had not guessed it?... And you told father to-night--you told
him, because I never heard him laugh that way before.... And you are
Jack--my boy that I loved when I was ten--my boy lover? Ah, Jack, I was
never deceived."

He drew her closer and lifted her flushed face. "I told your
father--yes. And I told him that we would go South with him."

"You--you dared assume that!--before I had consented!" she cried,
exasperated.

"Why--why, I couldn't contemplate anything else."

Half laughing, half angry, she strained to release his arm, then
desisted, breathless, gray eyes meeting his.

"No other man," she breathed--"no other man--" There was a silence, then
her arms crept up closer, encircling his neck. "There is no other man,"
she sighed.

THE MARKET-HUNTER

A warm October was followed by a muggy, wet November. The elm leaves
turned yellow but did not fall; the ash-trees lighted up the woods like
gigantic lanterns set in amber; single branches among the maples slowly
crimsoned. As yet the dropping of acorns rarely broke the forest