The colour rushed over Mike's cheek and brow; his heart began to beat violently, and his limbs to tremble. There was a long silence, broken only by the old familiar song of the lark sounding jubilantly from above their heads; the rustling of the tall fawn-coloured grasses that grew among the stones, and the distant faint lowing of cattle. The outline of Roseen's pretty face and head stood out cameo-like against the background of sunlit stone; Mike's gaze fastened itself there and could not detach itself. There was a long pause, then with a great effort he forced himself to speak. "Roseen, darlint, there's not a ha'porth of good the two of us goin' on this a-way; we may as well talk out plain. Ye're the best-natured an' kindest-hearted little girl in the wide world, God bless ye!--" Roseen drooped her head a little demurely, the colour mantling in her face now, and dimples coming and going about her mouth. "But," resumed the young man, steadying his voice, "I wouldn't take advantage of ye, alanna, an' let ye do what ye'd be apt to be sorry for afther a while. It wouldn't do at all for ye to be takin' up wid the likes o' me now. Sure ye'd be the laughingstock of the place, if ye went an' got married to a poor fellow like meself that hasn't a rag to his back nor a penny in his pocket, an' just stepped out o' prison more by token--sure, that alone 'ud make a deal o' differ!" "Aye, indeed," interrupted Roseen, throwing up her head, "it 'ud make that much differ, Mike, that if a girl was fond of a boy before, she'd be apt to be ten times fonder after. Now lookit here, Mike Clancy, I have had enough of this--'pon me word, isn't it too bad for a poor girl to have to go beggin' an' prayin' a fellow this way! Ye ought to be ashamed of yourself! Saints presarve us, this is the third time I am afther axing ye! I declare I'm out o' patience wid ye altogether. Sure, didn't we have each other bespoke ever since we could say a word at all, an' what matter in the name of goodness, if ye haven't a penny in your pocket? Haven't I plenty for the two of us? And sure, good gracious, if me poor grandfather, God rest him! put ye in gaol for what ye never done, isn't it me that ought to be ashamed an' not yourself? There now, I'll never say another word to ye, good or bad, if ye don't make up your mind at wanst an' lave off talkin' that rubbish!" Apparently Mike did make up his mind, for he left his particular corner of the stone bench and came close to Roseen, his face aglow with happiness and his arms outstretched. And there they sat and talked among the ruins till the birds flew twittering to roost and the golden light faded from the hill-top: yet, as hand in hand they came down the path and wandered homewards through the dewy grass, it seemed to them that they still were walking in a glorified world. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of North, South and Over the Sea by M.E. Francis (Mrs. Francis Blundell)