"It is hard, but it is fact," she said. "I don't know so much about that," said the little doctor. "Just now I feel as if it was my bounden duty to make you my happy little wife." "And how can I think it my duty to accept you?" she said, smiling. "Well, I do ask a great deal," he replied. "It means going to the other side of the world; but, my dear Mary, you should never repent it." "I know I never should," she replied. "We have only lately seen one another face to face, but I have known you and your kindness these many years." "Then why refuse me?" "For one thing, I am too old," she said, sadly. "Your dear little heart is too young, and good, and tender, you mean." She shook her head. "That's no argument against it," he said. "And now what else?" "There is my brother," she replied, speaking very firmly now. "Your brother?" "You know what dear Arthur is." "The simplest, and best, and truest of men." "Yes," she cried, with animation. "And a clever naturalist, whose worth has never yet been thoroughly known." "He is unworldly to a degree," continued the little lady; "and as you justly say, the simplest of men." "I would not have him in the slightest degree different," cried the doctor. "I scold him a good deal sometimes," said the little lady, smiling; "but I don't think I would have him different in the least." "No; why should we?" said the doctor. That _we_ was a cunning stroke of diplomacy, and it made Miss Rosebury start. She shook her head though directly. "No, Henry Bolter," she said, firmly, "it cannot be." "Cannot be?" he said, despondently. "No; I could not leave my brother. Let us join them in the garden!" "I am not to take that for an answer?" cried the doctor. "Yes," she replied; "it would be cruel to leave him." "But Mary, dear Mary, you do not dislike me!" cried the little doctor. "I'm not much to look at I know; not a very gallant youth, my dear!" "I think you are one of the best of men! You make me very proud to think that--that you could--could--" "And you have owned to liking me, my dear?" he whispered. "Say _yea_. Arthur would soon get used to your absence; and of course, before long we should come back." "No," she said firmly, "it could not be!" "Not be!" he said in a tone of so much misery that little Miss Rosebury added: "Not for me to go out there. We must wait." "Wait!" "Yes; a few years soon pass away, and you will return." "But we--I mean--I am getting so precious old," said the doctor dismally. "Yes, we should be much older, Henry," said the little lady sweetly, as she held out her hand; "but surely our esteem would never fade." "Never!" he cried, kissing her hand again; and then he laid that hand upon his arm, and they went out into the garden, where the little lady's eyes soon made out the Reverend Arthur bending over his choicest flowers, to pick the finest blossoms for a bouquet ready for Helen Perowne to carelessly throw aside.