the night, and the romance of the thing had filled her mind, and
the poetry of it had been beautiful to her. She had known--she had
told herself that she knew--that no man would so sacrifice himself;
certainly no such man as John Ball, with all his children and his
weary love of money! But now the poetry had come to be fact, and the
romance had turned itself into reality, and the picture formed by her
imagination had become a living truth. The very words of which she
had dreamed had been spoken to her.

"Shall it be so, my dear?" he said, again taking one of her hands.
"You want to be a nurse; will you be my nurse? Nay; I will not ask,
but it shall be so. They say that the lovers who demand are ever the
most successful. I make my demand. Tell me, Margaret, will you obey
me?"

He had walked on now, but in order that his time might be sufficient,
he led her away from the house. She was following him, hardly knowing
whither she was going.

"Susanna," said he, "shall come and live with the others; one more
will make no difference."

"And my aunt?" said Margaret.

It was the first word she had spoken since the gate had been locked
behind her, and this word was spoken in a whisper.

"I hope my mother may feel that such a marriage will best conduce
to my happiness; but, Margaret, nothing that my mother can say will
change me. You and I have known something of each other now. Of you,
from the way in which things have gone, I have learned much. Few men,
I take it, see so much of their future wives as I have seen of you.
If you can love me as your husband, say so at once honestly, and then
leave the rest to me."

"I will," she said, again whispering; and then she clung to his hand,
and for a minute or two he had his arm round her waist. Then he took
her, and kissed her lips, and told her that he would take care of
her, and watch for her, and keep her, if possible, from trouble.

Ah, me, how many years had rolled by since last she had been kissed
in that way! Once, and once only, had Harry Handcock so far presumed,
and so far succeeded. And now, after a dozen years or more, that game
had begun again with her! She had boxed Harry Handcock's ears when he
had kissed her; but now, from her lover of to-day, she submitted to
the ceremony very tamely.

"Oh, John," she said, "how am I to thank you?" But the thanks were
tendered for the promise of his care, and not for the kiss.

I think there was but little more said between