he had often thought I cared for her,--mentioned the day
when I found her at my mother's bedside, also the day of the funeral;
but so well had I controlled my feelings that she was never sure until
that night.

"I trust you will not think me unmaidenly, Henry," said she, looking
timidly up in my face. "You won't think worse of me, will you, for--for
almost offering myself to you?"

There was but one answer to this, and I failed not to give it. 'Twas a
very earnest answer, and she drew back a little. Her voice grew lower
and lower, while she told how, at my shaking hands the night before, she
almost fainted,--how she longed to say "Stay," but dared not, for I was
so stiff and cold: how could she say, "Don't go, Mr. Allen; please stay
and marry me"?--how she passed a wretched night and day, and walked out
at evening to be alone,--how she felt that she could go nowhere but to
my mother's grave,--and, finally, how overwhelmed with joy she was when
I came upon her so suddenly.

All this she told me, speaking softly and slowly, for which I was
thankful; for I liked to feel the sweet words of healing, dropping one
by one upon my heart.

In the midst of our talk, we heard the front-door of the house open.

"They are coming to look for me," said Jane. "You will go in?"

Hand in hand we walked up the pathway. We met Ellen half-way down. She
started with surprise at seeing me.

"Why, Mr. Allen!" she exclaimed, "I thought you a hundred miles off.
Why, Jane, mother was afraid you had fallen down the well."

She tripped gayly into the house.

"Mother!" she called out,--"you sent me for one, and I have brought you
two."

Jane and I walked in hand in hand; for I would not let her go. Her
mother looked surprised, but well pleased.

"Mrs. Wood," said I, "Jane has asked me to stay, and I am going to."

Nothing more was needed; our faces told the rest.

"Now Heaven be praised," she replied, "that we are still to have you
with us! I could not help thinking, that, if you only knew how much we
cared for you, you would not have been in such a hurry to leave us." And
she glanced significantly towards Jane.

The rest of the evening was spent in the most interesting explanations.
I passed the night at the village inn, as I had intended,--passed it,
not in sleep, but in planning and replanning, and in trying to persuade
myself that "Pink and Blue" was my own to keep.

The next day I spent at the Woods'. It was the first really ha