This must have expressed itself in my eyes,
for Harold, after gazing searchingly right there for a time, seemed
satisfied, and his mouth relaxed to its habitually lovable expression as
he said:

"Are you in earnest? Well, that is something more like the little woman."

"Yes, I'm in earnest. Can you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive, as I'm sure you didn't mean and don't
remember the blood curdling sentiments you aired."

"But I did mean them in one sort of a way, and didn't in another. Let us
start afresh."

"How do you mean to start afresh?"

"I mean for us to be chums again."

"Oh, chums!" he said impatiently; I want to be something more.

"Well, I will he something more if you will try to make me," I replied.

"How? What do you mean?"

I mean you never try to make me fond of you. You have never uttered one
word of love to me."

"Why, bless me!" he ejaculated in surprise.

"It's a fact. I have only flirted to try and see if you cared, but you
didn't care a pin."

"Why, bless me, didn't you say I was not to show any affection yet
awhile? And talk about not caring--why, I have felt fit to kill you and
myself many a time the last fortnight, you have tormented me so; but I
have managed to keep myself within bounds till now. Will you wear my ring
again?"

"Oh no; and you must not say I am flirting if I cannot manage to love you
enough to marry you, but I will try my best."

"Don't you love me, Syb? I have thought of nothing else but you night and
day since I saw you first. Can it be possible that you don't care a straw
for me?" and a pained expression came upon his face.

"Oh, Harold, I'm afraid I very nearly love you, but don't hurry me too
much! You can think me sort of secretly engaged to you if you like, but I
won't take your ring. Keep it till we see how we get on." I looked for
it, and finding it a few steps away, gave it to him.

"Can you really trust me again after seeing me get in such a vile beast
of a rage? I often do that, you know," he said.

"Believe me, Hal, I liked it so much I wish you would get in a rage
again. I can't bear people who never let themselves go, or rather, who
have nothing in them to carry them away--they cramp and bore me."

"But I have a frightful temper. Satan only knows what I will do in it
yet. Would you not be frightened of me?"

"No fear," I laughed; I would defy you."

"A tomtit might as well defy me," he said with amusement.

"Well, big as you a