"It was worth while waiting--even if I had waited years--though now and then you almost drove me mad," he said. "Your daintiness, your pride, the clean, hard grit that was in you, made me want to take you in my arms and break you and make you yield. Still, I knew, somehow, that was not the way with you, and I held myself in. It was hard--oh, it was hard. The beauty of you, your freshness, your beautiful little hands, even the coldness in your face, set me on fire at times. They were mine, you belonged to me, and yet I would claim nothing that went with your dislike. I wanted you to give them all to me." Carrie laughed, though there was a little break in her voice. "They are yours, and so am I. Only you must think them precious--and never let me go." Then she stretched her arm up and slipped it round his neck again. "Charley, at the very first, what was it made you want to marry me?" "Well," said Leland, with an air of reflection, "haven't you hair as softly dusky as the sky up there, and eyes so deep and clear that one can see the wholesome thoughts down in the depths of them? Haven't you hands and arms that look like alabaster, until one feels the gracious warmth beneath?" "And a vixenish temper! If I ever show it to you, you must shake me, and shake me hard. There was a time when you did it, and left a blue mark on my shoulder; but I deserved it, and now I wouldn't mind. I would sooner have you shake me every day than never think of me. Still, you haven't told me what I asked you yet." Leland stooped and kissed the shoulder. "When a man looks at you, he can see a hundred reasons for wanting you, and every one sufficient." "Still, that was not all. If you do not tell me, I shall ask Aunt Eveline, and I think she knows. Don't you see that we must understand everything to-night?" "Then it seemed to me it would be a horrible thing to marry you to Aylmer." Carrie drew her breath in. "Oh," she said, "I always fancied it was that, and I could love you if it was only for saving me from him." Then she broke out into a little soft laugh. "Charley, it was the wrong shoulder you kissed." "That is very easily set right," and the man bent down again. As he looked up, he called sharply to the horses, and shook the reins. "I wonder how long we have been waiting here?" he said. "I suppose you haven't noticed that the team has stopped?" They rode on again, in silence seldom broken, into a land of beatific visions. With a little wistful sense of regret, they saw Prospect at last rise black and shadowy against the big birch bluff. The teamsters, however, had not gone to sleep yet, and Leland, leaving the waggon to one of them, walked silently with Carrie towards the house. He stooped and kissed her as they crossed the threshold. "From now on, it is home," he said. "I only want to please you, and you must tell me when I fail."