“That’s it, be it?” said Olf. “But you mid still have to clean pots and pans after we was married, Kitty,” he added with a provident eye to the future. “The missus, she do often do a bit of cleanin’ up, if she be the missus.” “That would be different,” returned Kitty. “I shouldn’t have no objections to scourin’ my own pots and pans.” “True, true,” agreed Olf. Kitty dropped on all-fours again. “Well, I have told ye I’d be willin’,” she observed in somewhat ruffled tones, “but of course ye needn’t if ye don’t like.” “Who says I don’t like?” returned Olf, with unexpected warmth. “I d’ ’low I do like. I do think it a very good notion, my maid.” Kitty gave a little unexpected giggle, and continued to polish her doorstep with an immense deal of energy. Olf stood by for a moment in silence. Then to her surprise, and it must be owned, dismay, he turned about and walked slowly away. If Kitty had been unwilling to turn her head a few moments before, no earthly power would have induced her to glance round at him now; she began to sing blithely and carelessly to herself, and made a great clatter with her pail and scrubbing-brush. Not such a clatter, however, but that after a moment or two she detected the sound of vigorous pumping on the opposite side of the yard, and guessed, from certain subsequent sounds, that Olf was washing his face. Louder than ever sang Kitty when he presently crossed the yard again and bent over her. But a wave of colour rushed over her downcast face, and even dyed her little white neck. She could hear Olf chuckling, and presently a large finger, moist from recent ablutions, touched her chin. “Look up a minute, my maid,” said Olf. Kitty looked up. Olf’s sunburnt face was scarlet from the result of his late exertions, and was imperfectly dried, but it wore so frank and kindly a smile that the little maid smiled back with absolute confidence. “So we be to start a-coortin’, be we?” inquired Olf pleasantly. “I d’ ’low we be,” responded Kitty. “How’s that for a beginnin’, then?” inquired Olf. And thereupon he kissed her. At this moment Mrs. Inkpen appeared on the threshold, and soon her penetrating tones announced to the household that Olf was at last suited with a bride. A good deal of jesting and laughing ensued--not perhaps altogether good-natured, for in some unaccountable way both Mrs. Inkpen and Annie felt themselves slighted by this sudden transfer of Olf’s affection--but the newly-engaged couple submitted to their raillery with entire good humour, and presently resumed their interrupted vocations as though nothing particular had taken place. Towards evening, however, Olf found a moment for a word with his little sweetheart.