"

"I want you just to take a turn with me for a few minutes, Polly."

"But I'm going to church."

"You can go to church afterwards;--that is, if you like. I can't come
to the house now, and I have got something that I must say to you."

"Something that you must say to me!" And then Polly followed him over
the stile.

They had walked the length of nearly two fields before Ontario had
commenced to tell the tale which of necessity must be told; but
Polly, though she must have known that her chances of getting back to
church were becoming more and more remote, waited without impatience.
"I want to know," he said, at last, "whether you can ever learn to
love me."

"What's the use, Mr. Moggs?"

"It will be all the use in the world to me."

"Oh, no it won't. It can't signify so very much to anybody."

"Nothing, I sometimes think, can ever be of any use to me but that."

"As for learning to love a man,--I suppose I could love a man without
any learning if I liked him."

"But you don't like me, Polly?"

"I never said I didn't like you. Father and mother always used to
like you."

"But you, Polly?"

"Oh, I like you well enough. Don't, Mr. Moggs."

"But do you love me?" Then there was a pause, as they stood leaning
upon a gateway. "Come, Polly; tell a fellow. Do you love me?"

"I don't know." Then there was another pause; but he was in a seventh
heaven, with his arm round her waist. "I suppose I do; a little,"
whispered Polly.

"But better than anybody else?"

"You don't think I mean to have two lovers;--do you?"

"And I am to be your lover?"

"There's father, you know. I'm not going to be anybody's wife because
he tells me; but I wouldn't like to vex him, if we could help it."

"But you'll never belong to any one else?"

"Never," said she solemnly.

"Then I've said what I've got to say, and I'm the happiest man in all
the world, and you may go to church now if you like." But his arm was
still tight round her waist.

"It's too late," said Polly, in a melancholy tone,--"and it's all
your doing."

The walk was prolonged not quite to Edgeware; but so far that Mr.
Neefit was called upon to remark that the parson was preaching a very
long sermon. Mrs. Neefit, who perhaps had also had communication
with Jemima, remarked that it was not to be expected, but that Polly
should take a ramble with some of her friends. "Why can't she ramble
where I want her to ramble?" said Mr. Neefit.

Many things were set