mental about that, mother,' begged Sally. 'I didn't care
to manage well in such a case. Though I liked him, I wasn't so anxious.
I would never have married the man in the midst of such a hitch as that
was,' she added with decision; 'and I don't think I would if he were to
ask me now.'

'I am not sure about that, unless you have another in your eye.'

'I wouldn't; and I'll tell you why. I could hardly marry him for love at
this time o' day. And as we've quite enough to live on if we give up the
dairy to-morrow, I should have no need to marry for any meaner reason . .
. I am quite happy enough as I am, and there's an end of it.'

Now it was not long after this dialogue that there came a mild rap at the
door, and in a moment there entered Rebekah, looking as though a ghost
had arrived. The fact was that that accomplished skimmer and churner
(now a resident in the house) had overheard the desultory observations
between mother and daughter, and on opening the door to Mr. Darton
thought the coincidence must have a grisly meaning in it. Mrs. Hall
welcomed the farmer with warm surprise, as did Sally, and for a moment
they rather wanted words.

'Can you push up the chimney-crook for me, Mr Darton? the notches hitch,'
said the matron. He did it, and the homely little act bridged over the
awkward consciousness that he had been a stranger for four years.

Mrs. Hall soon saw what he had come for, and left the principals together
while she went to prepare him a late tea, smiling at Sally's recent hasty
assertions of indifference, when she saw how civil Sally was. When tea
was ready she joined them. She fancied that Darton did not look so
confident as when he had arrived; but Sally was quite light-hearted, and
the meal passed pleasantly.

About seven he took his leave of them. Mrs. Hall went as far as the door
to light him down the slope. On the doorstep he said frankly--'I came to
ask your daughter to marry me; chose the night and everything, with an
eye to a favourable answer. But she won't.'

'Then she's a very ungrateful girl!' emphatically said Mrs. Hall.

Darton paused to shape his sentence, and asked, 'I--I suppose there's
nobody else more favoured?'

'I can't say that there is, or that there isn't,' answered Mrs. Hall.
'She's private in some things. I'm on your side, however, Mr. Darton,
and I'll talk to her.'

'Thank 'ee, thank 'ee!' said the farmer in a gayer accent; and with this
assurance the not ve