Laydon measured the gate with his hand. "I had rather not tell my mother at once. She is very delicate and nervous, and perhaps she has grown a little selfish in her love for me. Besides, she had set her heart on--" He threw that matter aside, it being a young and attractive kinswoman with money. "I had rather not tell her just now. Then, as to Mrs. LeGrand.... Of course, I suppose, as I am a teacher here, and you are a pupil ... but there, too, had we not best delay a little? It will make a confusion--things will be said--my position will become an embarrassing one. And you, too, Hagar,--it won't be pleasant for you either. Isn't it better just to keep our own concerns to ourselves for a while? And your people up the river--why not _not_ tell them until summer-time? Then, when you go home,--and when I have finished my engagement here, for I don't propose to come back to Eglantine next year,--then you can tell them, and so much better than you could write it! I could follow you to Gilead Balm--we could tell them together. Then we could discuss matters and our future intelligently--and that is impossible at the moment. Let us just quietly keep our happiness to ourselves for a while! Why should the world pry into it?" He seized her hands and pressed his face against them. "Let us be happy and silent." She looked at him with her candid eyes. "No, we shouldn't be happy that way. I'll write to grandmother to-night." They gazed at each other, the gate between them. The strong enchantment held, but a momentary perplexity crossed it, and the never long-laid dust of pain was stirred. "I am not asking anything wrong," said Laydon, a hurt note in his voice. "I only see certain embarrassments--difficulties that may arise. But, darling, darling! it shall be just as you please! 'I'd crowns resign to call you mine'--and so I reckon I can face mother and Mrs. LeGrand and Colonel Ashendyne!" A flush came into his cheek. "I've been so foolish, too, as to--as to pay a little attention to Miss Bedford. But she is too sensible a woman to think that I meant anything seriously--" "Did you?" "Not in the least," said Laydon truthfully. "A man gets lonely, and he craves affection and understanding, and he's in a muddle before he knows it. There isn't anything else there, and I never said a word of _love_ to her. Darling, darling! I never loved any one until last night by the fire, and you looked up at me with those wonderful eyes, and I looked down, and our eyes met and held, and it was like a fine flame all over--and now I'm yours till death--and I'll run any gauntlet you tell me to run! If you write to your people to-night, so will I. I'll write to Colonel Ashendyne."