I sat there in the deep green shade of the maples, on the log where Mr. Brett and I had talked the first day I came to the Valley Farm. All the disagreeable things that ever happened to me since I was a child took this opportunity to stir in their graves and come to life again. Then they sat down in front of me in a dreary semicircle, staring me in the face until I couldn't stand it any longer, and began to cry. Vivace was very much surprised, and jumped up with his paws in my lap, as if he were saying, "What _is_ the matter?" This was a comfort, and I put my head down on his, with my arms round his neck, and cried more. If you once let yourself go, like that, you can't stop. Hearing your own little chokes and gasps makes you pity yourself so much that your heart nearly breaks. I was sobbing out loud, presently, which made Vivace whine, and I had almost begun to enjoy my utter forlornness and the distinction of being the most miserable person in the whole world when a distracted voice exclaimed: "Why, Lady Betty, Lady Betty, for heaven's sake what's happened?" I looked up all teary and flushed, and there was Mr. Brett, staring at me with horrified eyes, and his face as desperate as if he had found me struck by lightning or gored by the black and white bull. I was so ashamed and confused that I couldn't speak, but just sat there gazing up helplessly at him with tears running down my cheeks, and my lips trembling. The most awful look came into his eyes, and he went as pale as I was red. "My precious one, my darling!" he stammered, and dropping down on one knee by the big log, he put his arms round me. "Oh!" I said. And then my head was nestling down into his neck, and instead of being wretched I was perfectly happy. "Who has dared to make you cry?" he asked, holding me close. "You," I answered. "I?" "I thought you were only being kind to me because--because you're an American and it's your duty to a foreigner." He laughed at that--an excited, happy laugh, with a queer break in it. "I've been half out of my mind with love for you, ever since the first day I saw you looking down at me in the steerage. Am I _quite_ out of it now, or can it be true that you care for me--just a little, little bit?" "I care for you, _dreadfully_," said I. "Why, this isn't friendship, is it? It's being in love." "I should think it was--with me," he said. "It's all of me, heart, soul and body, drowning in love." "Don't drown," I whispered to him. "I--can't spare you." After that we didn't say a word, but I hadn't supposed it was possible for any human creature to feel so seraphically happy as I did. I don't know how long a time passed before we even spoke, but it seemed only a minute--a minute stolen straight out of heaven. And he was so handsome and dear that I would have kept that minute forever if I could, for it was impossible to believe that another could be so perfect.