again, so Susan said, and will not be back
until the last of the week. It has been four months since I saw him.
Perhaps I should not have kept him so long in suspense, but a girl
should not be too easily won, and he must never know how nearly I came
to complete surrender when he rode by my side that May day. How hard it
was to resist the pleading tenderness of his eyes! Oh, Abner, Abner!
how I love you!" she murmured, leaning her head upon the bars.

Approaching footsteps made no noise on the carpeting of leaves and moss
in the pathway over which she had come; and Betty, absorbed in her love
and yearning, did not look up, even when Jock gave a joyous bark of
welcome to the young man standing behind her.

[Illustration: "_I have come for my answer, Betty._"]

"I have come for my answer, Betty," he said, laying his hand over hers
clasped on the topmost bar.

Her eyes lit up with gladness as she raised her face, suffused with
crimson, toward him; but she uttered no word of welcome.

"You surely expected me," he said; "you did not think I'd wait one hour
beyond the time, did you? Ah, sweetheart, did you but know what a
torment of suspense and longing these last six months have been,
you'd---- But now it's November, your favorite month, you said, because
Thanksgiving comes in it. So now, my darling, say the word that alone
can give me a thankful heart. You'll listen to me now, won't you,
dear?" he asked of her as she still stood in trembling silence.

"I suppose I must, sir," she said, dimpling and blushing, with a saucy
toss of her head. "I can't very well stop my ears, seeing that you have
imprisoned both hands. Oh, don't! don't! I haven't pledged myself yet,"
she stammered, as he, raising her hands, drew them around his neck,
folded her in his arms, and kissed her brow. Then, still holding her
closely in one arm, with the other he turned her face to meet his,
murmuring, "Not just your forehead, sweetness--O sweetheart! darling!
wife!" as his lips closed over hers in a clinging kiss. "It is thus I
take my pledge. You are mine, mine, you bewildering, tormenting Betty."

"No! no!" she protested stammeringly, as she struggled to free herself.
"Oh, you're too--too--you hold me so close! You lose count of time and
season, sir," she added presently with an attempt at playfulness, and
trying to assume an ease and nonchalance she was far from feeling.
"This is November, remember--solemn, quiet Thanksgiving time. The
summer