Meanwhile, from behind his paper curtains J.C. looked after the party as they rode away, feeling somewhat relieved when the blue ribbons of Nellie's hat disappeared from view. For appearance's sake he felt obliged to keep his room for an hour or more, but at the end of that time he ventured to feel better, and dressing himself with unusual care he started for Dr. Kennedy's, walking very slowly, as became one suffering from a nervous headache, as he was supposed to be. Maude had finished her domestic duties, and in tasteful gingham morning-gown, with the whitest of linen collars upon her neck, she sat reading alone at the foot of the garden beneath a tall cherry tree where John had built her a rough seat of boards. This was her favorite resort, and here J.C. found her, so intent upon her book as not to observe his approach until he stood before her. She seemed surprised to see him, and made anxious inquiries concerning his headache, which he told her was much better. "And even if it were not," said he, seating himself at her feet; "even if it were not, the sight of you, looking so bright, so fresh, and so neat, would dissipate it entirely," and his eyes, from which the saucy, wicked look was for the moment gone, rested admiringly upon her face. His manner was even more pointed than his words, and coloring crimson, Maude replied, "You are disposed to be complimentary, Mr. De Vere." "I am disposed for once to tell the truth," he answered. "All my life long I have acted a part, saying and doing a thousand foolish things I did not mean, just because I thought it would please the senseless bubbles with whom I have been associated. But you, Maude Remington, have brought me to my senses, and determined me to be a man instead of a fool. Will you help me, Maude, in this resolution?" and seizing both her hands he poured into her astonished ear his declaration of love, speaking so rapidly and so vehemently as al most to take her breath away, for she had never expected a scene like this. She had looked upon him as one who would undoubtedly be her sister's husband, and the uniform kindness with which he had treated her, she attributed to his exceeding good nature; but to be loved by him, by J.C. De Vere, who had been sought after by the fairest ladies in the land, she could not believe possible, and with mingled feelings of pleasure, pain, and gratified vanity she burst into tears. Very gently J.C. wiped her tears away, and sitting down beside her he said, "The first time I ever saw you, Maude, you told me 'I did not look as if I meant for certain,' and you were right, for all my life has been a humbug; but I mean 'for certain' now. I love you, Maude, love you for the very virtues which I have so often affected to despise, and you must make me what J.C. De Vere ought to be. Will you, Maude? Will you be my wife?"