Ann Packet, who had been out on divers errands, stepped into the shop at this juncture, marked the occupants of the parlour, and went immediately behind the counter, to attend to business during that interview, and confuse the accounts inextricably, supposing that there was any business likely to drift that way just then. Mattie and Sidney had the little room all to themselves, and there was no likelihood of being disturbed. "Now, Mattie"--"Now, Sidney," had been said between them, and then each waited for the next words--as a duellist might wait for the sword's-point aimed at his heart. Mattie spoke first. It was evident that Sidney Hinchford would have waited all day. "A few days before you went away from here, Sidney," said Mattie, "you asked me a question, and I promised that in good time, and with due consideration, I would reply to it. Do you wish that question answered now?" "I have come for it," was the reply. He knew by Mattie's manner what that answer would be, and he steeled himself to meet a cold rejection of his offer. All was part and parcel of the new incomprehensibility upon which he had intruded. "More than once, Sidney, I have thought of writing my answer to you, but have found the difficulty of putting all I wish to say into words that would not look cold and indifferent to the great honour you would have done me." "This is satire," he said, hastily. "Forgive me, it is not intended for that. I would not wound you by a word, if I could help it. And it was an honour to _me_." "I deny it," he answered, warmly. "Ever before you and me that past which there is no shutting from us--which would have been talked about, and have often brought the blush of shame to your cheeks for my sake. Ever before you what I have been--what I am fit for!" "Fit for a higher station than it is in my power to raise you--no position is too elevated for a good and pious woman. All this is argument which I thought that I had combated long since--pardon me for adding, all this foolish reasoning, utterly unworthy of you." "Still----" "It is no reason for declining my hand, Mattie," he interrupted, with some sternness, "it is simply an excuse." Mattie winced for an instant, then her quiet voice, firm and even as the way she had chosen for herself, replied to this-- "Let me proceed, Sidney. You will hear me out fairly, I am sure." "Why not say No at once?--you mean to tell me that you do not care to be my wife, and share my home. Is not that your answer?" "Yes--but I cannot let you think that I have been insensible to your offer, or not weighed it carefully in my mind before I thought that it was not right that I should marry you. Sidney, had it pleased God never to have restored your sight, I would have been your faithful wife, serving you as I alone was able, perhaps, and rendering you content with me."