the squire, her cheeks very pale and her
lips white. He was too much absorbed in what he was saying to notice the
short smothered ejaculation, and he was too much embarrassed to look at
her.

"Mrs. Goddard," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "will you marry
me?"

He was not prepared for the result of his speech. He had pondered it for
some time and had come to the conclusion that it was best to say as
little as possible and to say it plainly. It was an honourable proposal
of marriage from a man in middle life to a lady he had known and
respected for many months; there was very little romance about it; he did
not intend that there should be any. As soon as he had spoken he turned
his head and looked to her for his answer. Mrs. Goddard had clasped her
small white hands over her face and had turned her head away from him
against the cushion of the high backed chair. The squire felt very
uncomfortable in the dead silence, broken only by the sleet driving
against the window panes with a hissing, rattling sound, and by the
singing of the tea-kettle. For some seconds, which to Juxon seemed like
an eternity, Mrs. Goddard did not move. At last she suddenly dropped
her hands and looked into the squire's eyes. He was startled by the ashen
hue of her face.

"It is impossible," she said, shortly, in broken tones. But the squire
was prepared for some difficulties.

"I do not see the impossibility," he said quite calmly. "Of course,
I would not press you for an answer, my dear Mrs. Goddard. I am afraid
I have been very abrupt, but I will go away, I will leave you to
consider--"

"Oh no, no!" cried the poor lady in great distress. "It is quite
impossible--I assure you it is quite, quite impossible!"

"I don't know," said Mr. Juxon, who saw that she was deeply moved, but
was loath to abandon the field without a further struggle. "I am not a
very young man, it is true--but I am not a very old one either. You, my
dear Mrs. Goddard, have been a widow for some years--"

"I?" cried Mrs. Goddard with a wild hysterical laugh. "I! Oh God of
mercy! I wish I were." Again she buried her face in the cushion. Her
bosom heaved violently.

The squire started as though he had been struck, and the blood rushed to
his brown face so that the great veins on his temples stood out like
cords.

"Did I--did I understand you to say that--your husband is living?" he
asked in a strong, loud voice, ringing with emotion.

Mrs. Goddard moved a li