rged by her ear, which was what Oak had expected. "Marrying
me! I didn't know it was that you meant," she said, quietly. "Such
a thing as that is too absurd--too soon--to think of, by far!"

"Yes; of course, it is too absurd. I don't desire any such thing;
I should think that was plain enough by this time. Surely, surely
you be the last person in the world I think of marrying. It is too
absurd, as you say."

"'Too--s-s-soon' were the words I used."

"I must beg your pardon for correcting you, but you said, 'too
absurd,' and so do I."

"I beg your pardon too!" she returned, with tears in her eyes. "'Too
soon' was what I said. But it doesn't matter a bit--not at all--but
I only meant, 'too soon.' Indeed, I didn't, Mr. Oak, and you must
believe me!"

Gabriel looked her long in the face, but the firelight being faint
there was not much to be seen. "Bathsheba," he said, tenderly and in
surprise, and coming closer: "if I only knew one thing--whether you
would allow me to love you and win you, and marry you after all--if
I only knew that!"

"But you never will know," she murmured.

"Why?"

"Because you never ask."

"Oh--Oh!" said Gabriel, with a low laugh of joyousness. "My own
dear--"

"You ought not to have sent me that harsh letter this morning," she
interrupted. "It shows you didn't care a bit about me, and were
ready to desert me like all the rest of them! It was very cruel of
you, considering I was the first sweetheart that you ever had, and
you were the first I ever had; and I shall not forget it!"

"Now, Bathsheba, was ever anybody so provoking," he said, laughing.
"You know it was purely that I, as an unmarried man, carrying on a
business for you as a very taking young woman, had a proper hard part
to play--more particular that people knew I had a sort of feeling for
'ee; and I fancied, from the way we were mentioned together, that it
might injure your good name. Nobody knows the heat and fret I have
been caused by it."

"And was that all?"

"All."

"Oh, how glad I am I came!" she exclaimed, thankfully, as she rose
from her seat. "I have thought so much more of you since I fancied
you did not want even to see me again. But I must be going now, or
I shall be missed. Why Gabriel," she said, with a slight laugh, as
they went to the door, "it seems exactly as if I had come courting
you--how dreadful!"

"And quite right too," said Oak. "I've danced at your skittish
heels, my beautif