"What about?"

"He ought to settle a sum on you," said Tom cautiously.

Jane smiled as she thought: "You want money out of him, but you mean
well."

"Men with cash generally give their wives a bit down," said Tom.

"If he did that, wouldn't it be rather like buying me?" she asked.

"Lord, no! Rich folk do it, the swells. Why shouldn't he?"

"He's not what I'd call a swell--real gentleman--not like Mr. Chesney,"
said Jane.

"That's different; there's not many men like him."

"No, that's true," said Jane with a sigh.

"I'll put a few questions to him," said Tom. "Wonder what his business
is?"

"Surveyor; he says so."

"Can't make it out why he hangs about here so long without it's for
your sake, lass."

"Perhaps that has something to do with it."

"Must have," said Tom.

He waited to see Carl Meason, who came the next morning, eager to have
Jane's answer. He had a long talk with Tom Thrush; they went for a
walk; Carl returned alone. He at once put the question to Jane, saying
he had her father's consent. She made up her mind quickly. It was a
chance she must not let slip--there were no eligible suitors in the
neighborhood.

"I will marry you, Carl," she said. "You must be very good and kind to
me."

He drew her to him, and kissed her passionately, vowing he would do
everything possible to make her happy. He would have promised anything
to gain his own ends.

"I want to be married in Little Trent Church," she said.

"I'll get a special license," he replied. "We've no time to wait."

"You're in a hurry to be off," said Jane.

"Business, my dear. I'd not have stayed so long at the Sherwood Inn if
it hadn't been for you."

"You do love me--it's not make-believe?"

"Is that make-believe," he said, crushing her in his arms, kissing her
many times. She recognized it was anything but make-believe; he wanted
her badly, he must love her.

"Let me go," she said, panting.

"You believe me?"

"Yes, I believe you."

"And you love me?"

"Yes."

He crushed her again, then reluctantly let her go and stood looking at
her.

"I've seen the parson," he said. "He's a queer old fellow; said he
must see your father about it--and you."

"That's quite right. We sort of belong to him; he's our guide. I go
to church."

"I told him he'd have no difficulty with you, or your father, that
you'd both consent," he said.

"But you didn't know we would!" she remonstrated.

"I was sure of it," sa