"I want very much to hear your story, daughter; but if you can sleep without having told it I think we will reserve it till to-morrow; for see! it is now half-past twelve." The girl would have been glad to unburden her mind and to learn if her mother approved--not her rejection of Ransquattle--of that there could be no doubt--but her manner of doing it; but that dear mother's face cheerful though it was, told of physical exhaustion and need of sleep. Mildred rose hastily. "High time then that we wore both in bed. My story will keep perfectly well till to-morrow." "Sit down and finish warming yourself," Mrs. Keith said, with a smile. "I want to hear about to-night. We will keep the longer story for to-morrow." The Lightcaps found their house all dark the family had retired to bed hours ago, but leaving the kitchen door unlocked and a good fire in the stove. "Good and warm in here," remarked Gotobed, feeling for the candle and matches his mother was sure to have left on the table ready for them. "Yes; feels comfortable. I shall set down and warm a bit 'fore I crawl up to that there cold bed-room." "Me too; don't expect to sleep none when I do get to bed," growled Gote, as he succeeded in lighting the candle, after two or three ineffectual attempts, and set it on the table again. "Kind o' eggzited are ye?" "Some. I say, what did you make room for that--" "Don't swear;" she sneered, as he paused for a suitable cognomen to bestow upon Buzzard. "I wa'n't agoin' to!" he said angrily; "not but what I've sufficient cause in your letting that unclean bird in amongst us decent folks." "There now; that'll do fur to-night," she snapped. "Tim. Buzzard ain't no more an unclean bird than you are; he's twicet as good lookin' and sings like a nightingale. "But now see here; don't let's quarrel, but go to work together to bring things round right. You don't want him to cut you out with Mildred Keith, and I don't want her to cut me out with him. So now you just spunk up and pop the question right off. If you don't, one or other o' them fellers'll get ahead o' you; you may just take my word for that." Gotobed dropped his head into his hands and sighed deeply, then rose and walked the floor. Rhoda Jane watched him with an eager, half-contemptuous look. "Well!" he said at length, "I wisht I knowed how!" "Knowed how! you needn't make many words about it; 'tain't like makin' up a sermon or a president's message." "It's a heap more important; the happiness of a feller's whole life a dependin' onto it." Silence for some minutes, Rhoda Jane sitting meditatively before the stove, her feet on its hearth, her hands clasped round her knees, while her brother continued his restless walk. She was the first to speak. "I'd write it out if I was you." "I ain't used to writin' much." "Well, you can get used to it; you can try and try till you've writ somethin' that'll do." "I couldn't write anything good enough for her to see." "Then take t'other way."