air, cut through the silence
like a sweep of a sword-blade.

"How dare you!" she said, with a wrathful thrill in her low, intense
tones. "How dare you come here to insult me!"

Insult her! He,--the Reverend Charles Dyceworthy,--considered guilty of
insult in offering honorable marriage to a mere farmer's daughter! He
could not believe his own ears,--and in his astonishment he looked up at
her. Looking, he recoiled and shrank into himself, like a convicted
knave before some queenly accuser. The whole form of the girl seemed to
dilate with indignation. From her proud mouth, arched like a bow, sprang
barbed arrows of scorn that flew straightly and struck home.

"Always I have guessed what you wanted," she went on in that deep,
vibrating tone which had such a rich quiver of anger within it; "but I
never thought you would--" She paused, and a little disdainful laugh
broke from her lips. "You would make _me_ your wife--_me_? You think
_me_ likely to accept such an offer?" And she drew herself up with a
superb gesture, and regarded him fixedly.

"Oh, pride, pride!" murmured the unabashed Dyceworthy, recovering from
the momentary abasement into which he had been thrown by her look and
manner. "How it overcometh our natures and mastereth our spirits! My
dear, my dearest Froeken,--I fear you do not understand me! Yet it is
natural that you should not; you were not prepared for the offer of
my--my affections,"--and he beamed all over with benevolence,--"and I
can appreciate a maidenly and becoming coyness, even though it assume
the form of a repellant and unreasonable anger. But take courage, my--my
dear girl!--our Lord forbid that I should wantonly play with the
delicate emotions of your heart! Poor little heart! does it flutter?"
and Mr. Dyceworthy leered sweetly. "I will give it time to recover
itself! Yes, yes! a little time! and then you will put that pretty hand
in mine"--here he drew nearer to her, "and with one kiss we will seal
the compact!"

And he attempted to steal his arm round her waist, but the girl sprang
back indignantly, and pulling down a thick branch of the clambering
prickly roses from the porch, held it in front of her by way of
protection. Mr. Dyceworthy laughed indulgently.

"Very pretty--very pretty indeed!" he mildly observed, eyeing her as she
stood at bay barricaded by the roses. "Quite a picture! There, there! do
not be frightened,--such shyness is very natural! We will embrace in the
Lord anot