They were on high ground; a sloping bit of rough moor led to the edge of the cliffs; beyond was the blue ocean. A fleet of fishing boats were putting out to sea, and the sun was already slowly disappearing below the horizon, but it was sending its rosy rays across the water, and Orris drew a long breath of pleasure and appreciation as she watched it. She was ready to fall in with Jock's suggestion. He tethered the horses to some iron railings, and then found a pile of granite slabs upon which they sat, facing the sea. "You haven't answered my question yet," he said, laying his right hand over one of hers as he spoke. "When are you coming back to us?" Orris could not answer. "You'll never get away from me," Jock went on. "I'm positive that we are two souls who are meant to cleave together eternally, and you must know it too by this time. I have been getting the house ready for you as fast as I can; and I have a surprise for Pippa in it. I have waited patiently for your time, and now it has come. You are not going to send me home an unhappy man, are you?" Orris looked up at him serenely, though her heart was throbbing painfully. "But what is it that you want?" she asked. "I cannot come back to the Farm—my work is over at Pinestones." "Your work at Pinestones is not begun. You know what I want, and the work there is to do there. You have to take rather an uncouth rough sort of a fellow, and mould him into a model husband. Oh, Orris, don't let us beat about the bush any longer. Put your dear hand in mine, and tell me that you'll come to me." Orris did not move. She was gazing out over the sea. She was going to capitulate—she had no doubt about her feelings by this time—but she hesitated. Jock saw the hesitation. He took her hands in his, and made her look at him. "Now then, my heart's dearest," he said, "be straight and true—you can be no other. Tell me that you'll be mine." "I will." The words were soberly uttered: they had as solemn a ring about them as if uttered in the marriage service. And then Jock's arms were about her and their lips met. It was some minutes after that, releasing herself from his embrace, she said a little playfully: "And you have never asked if I love you?" "I don't need to," he said. "I'm not much to love, but my love for you is big enough for us both." "Oh, Jock, dear Jock!" Happy tears rose to Orris's eyes. "Do you know what you are to me?" she said. "A tower of strength, a modern knight of chivalry, one whom I know I could test to the uttermost and who would never fail me. I think, of all combinations, the equal mixture of strength and gentleness is what I admire most, and these are what you possess." "Spare my blushes," said Jock, and he had reddened slightly under his tanned skin, but the joyous light in his eyes deepened into a steady glow at her words.