c lantern of a place, and when I found
her I couldn't see her so well as I wanted. But, darn'ee, I will
to-night. William John!"

"Zack!"

"William John, if it do cost a golden guinea to sit down along to-night,
we'm going to sit in they handsome chairs close up to the harmony."

"That's all right, boy," chuckled Corin. "We'll sit in the front row."

"That's better," sighed Trewhella, much relieved by this announcement.

When Jenny said she must go and get ready for the theater, the farmer
asked if he might put her along a bit of the way.

"If you like," she told him. "Only I hope you walk quicker than what you
eat, because I shall be most shocking late if you don't."

Trewhella said he would walk just as quick as she'd a mind to; but Jenny
insured herself against lateness by getting ready half an hour earlier
than usual.

They presented a curious contrast, the two of them walking down Hagworth
Street. There was a certain wildness in the autumnal evening that made
Trewhella look less out of keeping with the city. All the chimneys were
flying streamers of smoke. Heavy clouds, streaked with dull red veins,
were moving down the sky, and the street corners looked very bare in the
wind. Trewhella stalked on with his long, powerful body bent forward
from crooked legs. His twisted stick struck the pavement at regular
intervals: his Ascot tie of red satin gleamed in the last rays of the
sunset. Beside him was Jenny, not much shorter actually, but seeming
close to him very tiny indeed.

"Look, you maid," said Trewhella when, after a silent hundred yards,
they were clear of the house, "I never seed no such a thing as your
dancing before. I believe the devil has gotten hold of me at last. I sat
up there almost falling down atop of 'ee? Yet I'm the man who's sat
thinking of Heaven ever since I heard tell of it. Look, you maid, will
you be marrying me this week and coming home along back to Cornwall?"

"What?" cried Jenny. "Marry you?"

"Now don't be in a frizz to say no all at once. But hark what I do tell
'ee. I've got a handsome lill farm set proper and lew--Bochyn we do call
it. And I've got a pretty lill house all a-shining wi' brass and all
a-nodding wi' roses and geraniums where a maid could sit looking out of
the window like a dove if she'd a mind to, smelling the stocks and
lilies in the garden and harking to the sea calling from the sands."

"Well, don't keep on so fast," Jenny interrupted. "You _don't_ think