Then before she could make the sharp retort which had risen to her lips he had darted to the door. As it closed behind him Rosalie sprang to her feet, and began to pace hastily about the room. What had she done? She had actually in so many words made an offer of marriage to Isaac Sharpe—and she was not quite sure of being accepted! There was the rub! Elias was an old man, yet he had wooed her, in her homeless, penniless condition, with a certain amount of ardour. In her widowhood she had been courted, doubtless as much on account of her wealth as of her beauty, but certainly with no lack of eagerness. And now, when she had turned with affectionate confidence to this old friend, and practically laid herself, her good looks, and good fortune at his feet, he had promised unwillingly to think it over. It was not to be endured—she would send him to the right-about on his return, let his decision be what it might. But then came the sickening remembrance of the failures and humiliations which had attended her unassisted enterprises; the importunities of distasteful suitors—worst of all, the confident leer on Sam Belbin’s face. Great Heavens! What a miserable fate was hers! She dared not so much as trust a servant but he must needs try to take advantage of her unprotected condition. The lamp was lit and tea set forth, but Rosalie left it untasted upon the table. She was still pacing restlessly about the room when Isaac walked in; this time without any preliminary knock. He closed the door behind him and advanced towards the young woman, his face wearing a benign if somewhat sheepish smile. ‘I be come to tell you,’ he said, ‘as I’ve come round to the notion.’ He paused, beaming down at her with the air of a man who was making an indubitably pleasant announcement; and Rosalie, who was gifted with a very genuine sense of humour, could not for the life of her help laughing. ‘’Ees,’ repeated Isaac valiantly. ‘I’ve a-comed round to the notion. I was al’ays a bit shy o’ materimony, by reason o’ the cat-and-dog life as my mother and father did lead; but I d’ ’low as I’ve no need to be fearful about you. You’re made different, my dear; and ye’ve been a good wife to ’Lias. What’s more,’ he went on cheerfully, ‘as I was a-thinkin’ to myself, ’t is n’t same as if I was to go and put myself in the wrong box, so to speak, by beggin’ and prayin’ of ye to have me; then ye mid very well cast up at me some day if I was n’t _satisfied_ wi’ the bargain. But when a young woman comes and axes a man as a favour to marry her it be a different story, bain’t it?’ Rosalie stopped laughing and glanced at him indignantly.