sweet Bet," said
John Johnstone. "See how pale is this butter, how thin this cream
compared to what you offer me at the parsonage."

The horses came round at last, Mr. Johnstone's bay mare with them; he
would certainly accompany them home.

Indeed it seemed as if this evening he could not tear himself away, he
lingered on and on, and it grew quite dark, and the moon rose over the
snow, and the stars shone out one by one.

Supper was over, Mistress Mary long since gone home. It was nine
o'clock--Mr. Johnstone must go. Mr. Ives sat quiet in his deep chair,
the warmth and the comfort entered into his soul, and he slept.

"Come with me to the door, sweet Bet," said John lingeringly.

"Yes, even farther than that," she said, and she caught up her fur
cloak, threw it round her, and followed him out to the garden gate. The
crisp snow crackled pleasantly under foot.

Old Isaac, who held the bay mare, left them when he had given the bridle
into her master's hand.

"They will be wishing to kiss, mayhap," he muttered to himself, "and
I'll not stand in their way, God bless them!"

John Johnstone mounted. He looked up to the sky and said, "It is later
than I thought. I have a long ride before me to-night, sweetheart. I
have business near Newbury. I had meant to go home and change the bay
mare for my faithful Seagull, but it is too late."

"When shall you be back?" asked Betty, who was used now to his sudden
departures.

"To-morrow--to-morrow at latest, and my first halt shall be here."

"Are you armed?"

He gave a laugh, and pointed to his saddle, well garnished with pistols.

"They are loaded," he said. "For it might fall out that I should meet
with Wild Jack."

"Heaven forbid!" said Betty with a shiver.

"You are cold, sweetheart, you must go in. We must part. Oh! it is
bitter to say farewell."

"Only till to-morrow, John! Only till to-morrow!"

"Only till to-morrow!" he echoed.

Then he bent down, put his hand under her chin and raised her sweet
face--the moon shone on it, on the large eyes lovingly turned to his, on
the wondering tender look, in which joy and pain seemed strangely
mingled.

Their lips met, one long wild kiss--for the first time she heard his
passionate words, "My own, my beloved!" Then he drew up his reins. John
gave one glance at the moon, and noted how she mounted heaven's
arch--then he looked back no more, but set spurs to the bay mare's
flanks, and galloped away.

Betty went home;