“Then you did think there was going to be a second time?” “How do I know? I wished it. Do you like me to say that?” “I wish you would never say anything else.” “Yes; there can't be any harm in it now. I thought that if you had ever--liked me, you would still--” “So did I; but I couldn't believe that you--” “Oh, I could.” “Alice!” “Don't you like my confessing it! You asked me to.” “Like it!” “How silly we are!” “Not half so silly as we've been for the last two months. I think we've just come to our senses. At least I have.” “Two months!” she sighed. “Has it really been so long as that?” “Two years! Two centuries! It was back in the Dark Ages when you refused me.” “Dark Ages! I should think so! But don't say refused. It wasn't refusing, exactly.” “What was it, then?” “Oh, I don't know. Don't speak of it now.” “But, Alice, why did you refuse me?” “Oh, I don't know. You mustn't ask me now. I'll tell you some time.” “Well, come to think of it,” said Mavering, laughing it all lightly away, “there's no hurry. Tell me why you accepted me to-day.” “I--I couldn't help it. When I saw you I wanted to fall at your feet.” “What an idea! I didn't want to fall at yours. I was awfully mad. I shouldn't have spoken to you if you hadn't stopped me and held out your hand.” “Really? Did you really hate me, Dan?” “Well, I haven't exactly doted on you since we last met.” She did not seem offended at this. “Yes, I suppose so. And I've gone on being fonder and fonder of you every minute since that day. I wanted to call you back when you had got half-way to Eastport.” “I wouldn't have come. It's bad luck to turn back.” She laughed at his drolling. “How funny you are! Now I'm of rather a gloomy temperament. Did, you know it?” “You don't look it.” “Oh, but I am. Just now I'm rather excited and--happy.” “So glad!” “Go on! go on! I like you to make fun of me.” The benches on either side were filled with nursemaids in charge of baby-carriages, and of young children who were digging in the sand with their little beach shovels, and playing their games back and forth across the walk unrebuked by the indulgent policemen. A number of them had enclosed a square in the middle of the path with four of the benches, which they made believe was a fort. The lovers had to walk round it; and the children, chasing one another, dashed into them headlong, or, backing off from pursuit, bumped up against them. They did not seem to know it, but walked slowly on without noticing: they were not aware of an occasional benchful of rather shabby young fellows who stared hard at the stylish girl and well-dressed young man talking together in such intense low tones, with rapid interchange of radiant glances. “Oh, as to making fun of you, I was going to say--” Mavering began, and after a pause he broke off with a laugh. “I forget what I was going to say.” “Try to remember.” “I can't.”