e and patient strength.

"And so, Myles, we are at peace again, and I at least will make it my
endeavor that there shall be no such breach of charity in the future.'"

"Nay, Barbara, stay a little, I pray thee. I have somewhat to say, for
which in advance I must ask thy patience and indulgence. Thou 'lt not be
angered at me so soon again, Barbara?"

"Nay, I'll not be angered, cousin." But Barbara's voice was very sad.

"'T is this, and I thought of it all last night as we flitted in the
moonlight across the bay, and what thou sayest of my mother's charge to
thee fits my thought like hand and glove. Why should not we two wed,
Barbara?"

He turned and looked at her, and stood amazed to see how the steadfast
calm of her face broke up in a tempest of indignation, of grief, of
outraged womanhood.

"Why, Barbara! Why, cousin! What is it, what have I said? What ails
thee, dear? What works upon thee so cruelly?"

"That any man should dare fancy it of me--there, there, let be, let me
pass, let me go!"

"Nay, then, I'll not let thee go. I'm but a rude bungler in these
women-ways, and I've said or done somewhat that wounds thee sorely, and
I'll not let thee go till 't is all outsaid and I have once more cleared
myself of at least willful offense toward thee."

"Wilt keep me by force, sir?"

"Ay maid I will, for 't is only in bodily strength that I'm thy match,
and so for the moment I will e'en use it. Sit thee here now and listen
yet again, as I say, Why may not we two wed, cousin Barbara? Thou 'rt
not mine own cousin, thou knowest, child; 't was thy father and mine
were in that bond; and--now bear with me, Barbara--I've a shrewd
suspicion that my mother bade thee be not a sister but a wife to me.
Truth now, did she not, maid?"

"She could not guide either my love or thine, so why would she try?"

"Nay, that's no answer, lass, but we'll let the question go. There's not
a woman alive, Barbara, so dear to me as thou; there's none I hold in
greater reverence or trust; there's none with whom I would so gladly
live out my days, and--though now I risk thy scorn,--there's none whose
lineage I so respect"--

"What, the Henley lineage?" murmured Barbara, with face averted to hide
a smile.

"Nay, thou 'rt all Standish, Barbara! Thou 'rt more Standish than I, for
thou hast the eyes of those old portraits my poor father vainly tried to
wrest from his cousin Alexander. Let me look at those eyes, Barbara!"

"And so because it