one expected. He missed Lois from
the keeping-room where his sisters were spinning, almost immediately.
His mother sat by at her knitting--he could see Nattee in the kitchen
through the open door. He was too reserved to ask where Lois was, but
he quietly sought till he found her--in the great loft, already piled
with winter stores of fruit and vegetables. Her aunt had sent her there
to examine the apples one by one, and pick out such as were unsound,
for immediate use. She was stooping down, and intent upon this work,
and was hardly aware of his approach, until she lifted up her head and
saw him standing close before her. She dropped the apple she was
holding, went a little paler than her wont, and faced him in silence.

'Lois,' he said, 'thou rememberest the words that I spoke while we yet
mourned over my father. I think that I am called to marriage now, as
the head of this household. And I have seen no maiden so pleasant in my
sight as thou art, Lois!' He tried to take her hand. But she put it
behind her with a childish shake of her head, and, half-crying, said:

'Please, Cousin Manasseh, do not say this to me. I dare say you ought
to be married, being the head of the household now; but I don't want to
be married. I would rather not.'

'That is well spoken,' replied he, frowning a little, nevertheless. 'I
should not like to take to wife an over-forward maiden, ready to jump
at wedlock. Besides, the congregation might talk, if we were to be
married too soon after my father's death. We have, perchance, said
enough, even now. But I wished thee to have thy mind set at ease as to
thy future well-doing. Thou wilt have leisure to think of it, and to
bring thy mind more fully round to it.' Again he held out his hand.
This time she took hold of it with a free, frank gesture.

'I owe you somewhat for your kindness to me ever since I came, Cousin
Manasseh; and I have no way of paying you but by telling you truly I
can love you as a dear friend, if you will let me, but never as a
wife.'

He flung her hand away, but did not take his eyes off her face, though
his glance was lowering and gloomy. He muttered something which she did
not quite hear, and so she went on bravely although she kept trembling
a little, and had much ado to keep from crying.

'Please let me tell you all. There was a young man in Barford--nay,
Manasseh, I cannot speak if you are so angry; it is hard work to tell
you any how--he said that he wanted to mar