called on to make any sign? Would he like
her for thus going to him? But then she had no chance of escape. She
found herself in Mrs. Sturt's kitchen under her mother's sanction,
before she had been able to form any purpose; and then an idea did
come to her, even at that moment, that poor Luke would have had a
hard task of it in her sister's presence. When she was first told
that he was there in the farm-house parlour, her courage left her and
she dreaded the encounter; but she was able to collect her thoughts
as she passed out of the kitchen, and across the passage, and when
she followed Mrs. Sturt into the room she had again acquired the
power to carry herself as a woman having a soul of her own.

"Rachel!" Rowan said, stepping up to her and tendering his hand to
her. "I have come to answer your letter in person."

"I knew," she said, "when I wrote it, that my letter did not deserve
any answer. I did not expect an answer."

"But am I wrong now to bring you one in person? I have thought so
much of seeing you again! Will you not say a word of welcome to me?"

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Rowan."

"Mr. Rowan! Nay; if it is to be Mr. Rowan I may as well go back to
Baslehurst. It has come to that, that it must be Luke now, or there
must be no naming of names between us. You chided me once when I
called you Rachel."

"You called me so once, sir, when I should have chided you and did
not. I remember it well. You were very wrong, and I was very
foolish."

"But I may call you Rachel now?" Then, when she did not answer him at
the moment, he asked the question again in that imperious way which
was common with him. "May I not call you now as I please? If it be
not so my coming here is useless. Come, Rachel, say one word to me
boldly. Do you love me well enough to be my wife?"

She was standing at the open window, looking away from him, while he
remained at a little distance from her as though he would not come
close to her till he had exacted from her some positive assurance
of her love as a penance for the fault committed by her letter. He
certainly was not a soft lover, nor by any means inclined to abate
his own privileges. He paused a moment as though he thought that his
last question must elicit a plain reply. But no reply to it came. She
still looked away from him through the window, as though resolved
that she would not speak till his mood should have become more
tender.

"You said something in your letter," he con