"I supposed there was some good reason," I said loftily. She vouchsafed no answer--only went on making a chain of daisies, while her dimples came and went, and I went on to make a further fool of myself. I was soon haled up and found myself in that outer darkness, where the cheerful occupation is gnashing of teeth. Like the foolish glass-merchant, I had smashed all my hopes. I walked home through the Vale of Bitterness. That evening, after spending some hours in trying to devise a plan by which I could evade the humiliation of an absolute surrender, and get back without crawling too basely, I went over to say what I called--good-by. I was alone; for Dix had abandoned me for her, and I did not blame him even now. It was just dusk; but it seemed to me midnight. I had never known the fields so dark. As I turned into a path through the orchard where I had had so many happy hours, I discovered her sitting on the ground beneath a tree with Dix beside her; but as I approached she rose and leant against the tree, her dryad eyes resting on me placidly. I walked up slowly. "Good evening--" solemnly. "Good evening--" seriously. I was choosing amongst a half-dozen choice sentences I had framed as an introduction to my parting speech, when she said quietly, looking up: "I thought you might not come back this evening." "I have come to say good-by." "Are you going away?" Her voice expressed surprise--nothing more. "Yes." Solemnly. "For how long?"--without looking up. "Perhaps, forever." Tragically. "You are better at making a fire than I had supposed. Will you give me Dix?" This with the flash of a dimple. "I--I--yes--if you want him." I glanced at her face just in time to see the dimples disappear. "I am thinking of being married next week." My heart stopped beating. "You were--what?" "But of course, if you are going away I could not do it, could I?" Her eyes sought mine, then fell. "Eleanor!" I tried to possess myself of her hand; but she put it behind her. I tried to secure the other; but that also disappeared. Then I took--herself. "Eleanor!" Her face next second had grown grave. She looked up suddenly and looked me full in the eyes. "You are a goose. What would you think if I were to say I would marry you right away?" She looked down again quickly, and her face was sweet with tenderness. I was conscious of a sudden drawing in of my breath, and a feeling as if I were rising into the sky, "rimmed by the azure world." Then my brain began to act, and I seemed to have been lifted above the darkness. I was up in the sunlight again. "I should think I was in Heaven," I said quietly, almost reverently. "But for God's sake, don't say that to me unless you mean it." "Well, I will. I have written my father. Write to Mr. Marvel and ask him to come here." I have never known yet whether this last was a piece of humor. I only know I telegraphed John Marvel, and though I rode all night to do so, I thought it was broad daylight.