"It's getting late," said Halsa suddenly. "They must be back from church now, and will miss us." She rose and stood near Galbraith, her dress touching him. John stood up meekly, and as he stood the widow started back with a little cry, "Don't!" "Don't--what?" "I--I thought----" She did not finish her sentence, for the next moment Galbraith's arm was round her waist, and he drew her toward him. Except his mother, he had never touched lip of woman. He kissed her gently with the tenderest possible pressure, and then he kissed her again and again, until at last Halsa drew herself from his arm. "There," she said, "I think that's enough for you to-day." John wondered to himself if he could ever have enough of the nectar he had tasted. "We must really go in now," said Halsa decisively. "One kiss more," he pleaded. His arm was round her waist; her lips were once more raised to his, when there was a crash in the lentena hedge, a rush of scampering feet, and a shrill voice called out: "Oh my! how nice! I'm going to tell mummy." The lovers shot back from each other, and the widow bit her lips with anger. "It's that horrid little Eddy Bunny. He must have been watching us the whole time. I should like to shake him," and she stamped her foot. John recovered himself. "Never mind, darling," he said. "Eddy will only break the news for us." It was wonderful how easy it all seemed now. CHAPTER V. MRS. BUNNY DOUBTS. On Sundays the carved blackwood furniture in the Bunny's drawing-room emerged from its weekly suit of holland and shone resplendent in red satin upholstery. Mr. Bunny had exchanged his boots for a pair of list slippers, and was seated in a straight-backed chair, his spectacles pushed on to his forehead. He was a little ill-tempered at having had to take that long road home, and regretted that he had not taken out his brownberry. It was just this point, however, that he was unwilling to concede to Elder Bullin. In a recent argument Bunny maintained that it was flying in the face of divine law to work a horse on a Sunday. The elder held more practical opinions on the subject, and there had almost been an open rupture. Since that time, however, Bunny walked to church on the Sabbath, but was beginning to regret his line of action. He was not a young man, and adipose tissue had increased with his years. It irritated him to see the elder pass him with his pair of katty-war horses. Bunny had only one. The irritation he felt, however, was equalled by the sense of satisfaction that stole over the elder as he passed his opponent engaged in carrying out his convictions. There was a rustle, and Mrs. Bunny came into the room in her black silk dress. She was nearly fifteen years younger than her husband, a somewhat uncommon thing in the class of life to which they belonged, where husband and wife are mostly of the same age, or very near it.