"That is Tennyson," she said.

"Yes--that is Tennyson--the last great poet England can boast," he
answered. "The poet who hated hate and loved love."

"All poets are like that," she murmured.

"Not all, Mary! Some of the modern ones hate love and love hate!"

"Then they are not poets," she said. "They would not see any beauty in
that lovely sky--and they would not understand----"

"Us!" finished Angus. "And I assure you, Mary at the present moment, we
are worth understanding!"

She laughed softly.

"Do we understand ourselves?" she asked.

"Of course we don't! If we did, we should probably be miserable. It's
just because we are mysterious one to another, that we are so happy. No
human being should ever try to analyse the fact of existence. It's
enough that we exist--and that we love each other. Isn't it, Mary?"

"Enough? It is too much,--too much happiness altogether for _me_, at any
rate," she said. "I can't believe in it yet! I can't really, Angus! Why
should you love me?"

"Why, indeed!" And his eyes grew dark and warm with tenderness--"Why
should you love _me_?"

"Ah, there's so much to love in you!" and she made her heart's
confession with a perfectly naive candour. "I daresay you don't see it
yourself, but I do!"

"And I assure you, Mary," he declared, with a whimsical solemnity, "that
there's ever so much more to love in you! I know you don't see it for
yourself, but I do!"

Then they laughed together like two children, and all constraint was at
an end between them. Hand in hand they descended the grassy steep of the
"Giant's Castle"--charmed with one another, and at every step of the way
seeing some new delight which they seemed to have missed before. The
crimson sunset burned about them like the widening petals of a rose in
fullest bloom,--earth caught the fervent glory and reflected it back
again in many varying tints of brilliant colour, shading from green to
gold, from pink to amethyst--and as they walked through the splendid
vaporous light, it was as though they were a living part of the glory of
the hour.

"We must tell David," said Mary, as they reached the bottom of the hill.
"Poor old dear! I think he will be glad."

"I know he will!" and Angus smiled confidently. "He's been waiting for
this ever since Christmas Day!"

Mary's eyes opened in wonderment.

"Ever since Christmas Day?"

"Yes. I told him then that I loved you, Mary,--that I wanted to ask you
to marry me,--but that I