. "Who am I to forgive you? You were right:
I am no better than a beggar."

The red lips quivered and broke into a smile; a tiny dimple appeared,
vanished and reappeared; the hat's brim nodded again, and then the
eyes sparkled into laughter--

"A sturdy beggar, at any rate."

It was the poorest little joke, but love is not exacting of wit.
Again we both laughed, but this time with more relief, and yet the
embarrassment that followed was greater.

"Must you go?" I asked as I bent down to pull the boat in.

"I really must," she answered shyly; and then as she pulled out a
tiny watch at her waist--"Oh! I am late--so late. I shall keep
mother waiting and make her lose the train. What shall I do?
Oh, pray, sir, be quick!"

A mad hope coursed through me; I pointed to the boat and said--

"I have made it so wet. If you are late, better let me row you.
Where are you going?"

"To Streatley; but I cannot--"

"I also am going to Streatley. Please let me row you: I will not
speak if you wish it."

Over her face, now so beautifully agitated, swept the rarest of
blushes. "Oh no, it is not that, but I can manage quite well"--her
manner gave the lie to her brave words--"and I shall not mind the
wet."

"If I have not offended you, let me row."

"No, no."

"Then I have offended."

"Please do not think so."

"I shall if you will not let me row."

Before my persistency she wavered and was conquered. "But my boat?"
she said.

"I will tow it behind"--and in the glad success of my hopes I allowed
her no time for further parley, but ran off for my own boat, tied the
two together, and gently helped her to her seat. Was ever moment so
sweet? Did ever little palm rest in more eager hand than hers in
mine during that one heavenly moment? Did ever heart beat so
tumultuously as mine, as I pushed the boat from under the boughs and
began to row?

Somehow, as we floated up the still river, a hush fell upon us.
She was idly trailing her hand in the stream and watching the ripple
as it broke and sparkled through her fingers. Her long lashes
drooped down upon her cheek and veiled her eyes, whilst I sat
drinking in her beauty and afraid by a word to break the spell.

Presently she glanced up, met my burning eyes, and looked down
abashed.

"Forgive me, I could not help it."

She tried to meet the meaning of that sentence with a steady look,
but broke down, and as the warm blood surged across her face, bent
her eye