“None of that,” she cried, “I’ll never ha’ nothin’ to say to ye, if you do try to do things like that.” “Eh, I ax your pardon,” faltered Robert, much abashed. “I didn’t mean no harm, my dear--’tisn’t reckoned no harm at all up i’ th’ North when folks begins coortin’. You did look so bonny--an’ I just reckoned ’twould give us a good start like.” “I won’t have it then!” she broke out violently. She stooped over her basket, packing away the remainder of the tea-things with a certain amount of unnecessary clatter. Robert, whose proffered help was curtly declined, stood by dejectedly till she had concluded, when, snatching up the basket, she darted suddenly from his side, and bending her head rushed into the track. He immediately followed her, carrying her hat which she had left suspended on the branch. “You’re forgettin’ this,” he began diffidently. “Now then, lass, coom! This didn’t ought to make no difference. Will ye gie me a straight answer?” Rebecca had deposited her basket on the ground and was putting on her hat with trembling fingers. “I’ll think of it,” she stammered. “You must be respectful though.” A dark flush overspread Robert’s face. “I didn’t mean nought but what was respectful,” he said, “and ye’ve no need to think so much as that cooms to. It must be Yes or No. I could never bear shilly-shally work. Yes or No--take me or leave me--on trial of course. I only ax to be took on trial.” “Well, then, I will,” she said in a low voice. “I d’ ’low you are a good man, and as you do say I--I can’t always be so lonesome.” She paused a moment with downcast eyes; then, taking up her basket again, turned away. Robert stood stock still, watching her receding figure as it flitted away down the long alley. The sun had now set, and the woods were enveloped in even deeper mystery than that which had possessed them a little while ago; leafage and branch were inextricably mingled; yonder tiny object in the path might either be a rabbit or a stump; but Rebecca’s light dress defined her flying figure amid the gloom which otherwise would have engulfed her. Her shape showed white at first, then grey, as it receded farther, until at last it stood out for a moment almost black against the still glowing peep of sky which showed between the over-arching boughs at the farther end; then it vanished altogether. Even then Robert remained gazing after her, and at length he heaved a deep sigh. “Yon chap,” he said, “him as was her sweetheart--I wonder if she was so stand-off wi’ him.” The query seemed to open up an unpleasant train of thought; he struck at the sod with the heel of his heavy boot and frowned. “I’d ha’ summat to say to him if ever I comed across him,” he muttered; and then turned to continue on his beat. “I never see a bonnier lass,” he said presently in a softer tone; “poor lass--how pitiful she looked at me; I could do wi’ her very well--’tis to be hoped as she’ll mak’ up her mind to do wi’ me.”