Approaching footsteps made no noise on the carpeting of leaves and moss in the pathway over which she had come; and Betty, absorbed in her love and yearning, did not look up, even when Jock gave a joyous bark of welcome to the young man standing behind her. [Illustration: "_I have come for my answer, Betty._"] "I have come for my answer, Betty," he said, laying his hand over hers clasped on the topmost bar. Her eyes lit up with gladness as she raised her face, suffused with crimson, toward him; but she uttered no word of welcome. "You surely expected me," he said; "you did not think I'd wait one hour beyond the time, did you? Ah, sweetheart, did you but know what a torment of suspense and longing these last six months have been, you'd---- But now it's November, your favorite month, you said, because Thanksgiving comes in it. So now, my darling, say the word that alone can give me a thankful heart. You'll listen to me now, won't you, dear?" he asked of her as she still stood in trembling silence. "I suppose I must, sir," she said, dimpling and blushing, with a saucy toss of her head. "I can't very well stop my ears, seeing that you have imprisoned both hands. Oh, don't! don't! I haven't pledged myself yet," she stammered, as he, raising her hands, drew them around his neck, folded her in his arms, and kissed her brow. Then, still holding her closely in one arm, with the other he turned her face to meet his, murmuring, "Not just your forehead, sweetness--O sweetheart! darling! wife!" as his lips closed over hers in a clinging kiss. "It is thus I take my pledge. You are mine, mine, you bewildering, tormenting Betty." "No! no!" she protested stammeringly, as she struggled to free herself. "Oh, you're too--too--you hold me so close! You lose count of time and season, sir," she added presently with an attempt at playfulness, and trying to assume an ease and nonchalance she was far from feeling. "This is November, remember--solemn, quiet Thanksgiving time. The summer of fulfillment hasn't come yet." "Yes, it has," boldly asserted her lover. "Winter is past, and summer is here--glorious, satisfying harvest time--and--and--it is thus I garner in my wealth," he murmured with tender rapture, gathering her still closer, and kissing the sweet eyes and throat and mouth. "No more half-way measures between us now! No more tormenting reserve! You trust me, sweetheart? You give yourself to me, do you not?" "I don't seem to have much liberty of choice," she replied with a resumption of her old sauciness, as she again freed herself from his embrace. "As you have already stolen my heart, I may as well trust you with the rest--and I do, I do," she added solemnly. "My welfare, my happiness, my life itself, I commit to your keeping," placing both hands in his. "I give all unreservedly. You are worthy the trust."