is tone which Lois felt, and which had its effect upon
her, as such tones are apt to do, even when one does not willingly
submit to them. She objected that it was late.

"O, the moon is up," cried Madge; "it won't be any darker than it is
now."

"It will be brighter," said Philip.

"But your horses must have had enough."

"Just enough," said Philip, laughing, "to make them go quietly. Miss
Madge will bear witness they were beyond that at first. I want you to
go with me. Come, Miss Lois! We must be home before Mrs. Wishart's tea.
Miss Madge, give her your hood and cloak; that will save time."

Why should she not say no? She found it difficult, against that
something in his tone. He was more intent upon the affirmative than she
upon the negative. And after all, why _should_ she say no? She had
fought her fight and conquered; Mr. Dillwyn was nothing to her, more
than another man; unless, indeed, he were to be Madge's husband, and
then she would have to be on good terms with, him. And she had a secret
fancy to have, for once, the pleasure of this drive with him. Why not,
just to see how it tasted? I think it went with Lois at this moment as
in the German story, where a little boy vaunted himself to his sister
that he had resisted the temptation to buy some ripe cherries, and so
had saved his pennies. His sister praised his prudence and firmness.
"But now, dear Hercules," she went on, "now that you have done right
and saved your pennies, now, my dear brother, you may reward yourself
and buy your cherries!"

Perhaps it was with some such unconscious recoil from judgment that
Lois acted now. At any rate, she slowly rose from her sofa, and Madge,
rejoicing, threw off her cloak and put it round her, and fastened its
ties. Then Mr. Dillwyn himself took the hood and put it on her head,
and tied the strings under her chin. The start this gave her almost
made Lois repent of her decision; he was looking into her face, and his
fingers were touching her cheek, and the pain of it was more than Lois
had bargained for. No, she thought, she had better not gone; but it was
too late now to alter things. She stood still, feeling that thrill of
pain and pleasure where the one so makes the other keen, keeping quiet
and not meeting his eyes; and then he put her hand upon his arm and led
her down the wide, old-fashioned staircase. Something in the air of it
all brought to Lois's remembrance that Sunday afternoon at Shampuashuh
and the walk