She walked down to the town first and spent some time in front of the shop-windows. Tiring of this, she proceeded to the harbour and inspected the shipping, and then with the feeling strong upon her that it would be better to settle with Bassett at her own convenience, she walked slowly to the small street in which he lived, and taking up a position nearly opposite his house paced slowly to and fro with the air of one keeping an appointment. She was pleased to observe, after a time, a slight movement of the curtains opposite, and, satisfied that she had attained her ends, walked off. The sound of a street door closing saved her the necessity of looking round. At first she strolled slowly through the streets, but presently, increasing her pace, resolved to take the lad for a country walk. At Tranquil Vale she paused to tie up her boot-lace, and, satisfying herself that Bassett was still in pursuit, set off again. She went on a couple of miles farther, until turning the sharp corner of a lane she took a seat on the trunk of a tree that lay by the side and waited for him to come up. She heard his footsteps coming nearer and nearer, and with a satisfied smile noted that he had quickened his pace. He came round the corner at the rate of over four miles an hour, and, coming suddenly upon her, was unable to repress a slight exclamation of surprise. The check was but momentary, and he was already passing on when the voice of Miss Jelks, uplifted in sorrow, brought him to a standstill. “Oh, Master Bassett,” she cried, “I am surprised! I couldn’t have believed it of you.” Bassett, squeezing his hands together, stood eying her nervously. “And you so quiet, too,” continued Rosa; “but there, you quiet ones are always the worst.” The boy, peering at her through his spectacles, made no reply. “The idea of a boy your age falling in love with _me_,” said Rosa, modestly lowering her gaze. “_What_!” squeaked the astonished Bassett, hardly able to believe his ears. “Falling in love and dogging my footsteps,” said Rosa, with relish, “and standing there looking at me as though you could eat me.” “You must be mad,” said Bassett, in a trembling voice. “Stark staring mad.” “Don’t make it worse,” said Rosa kindly. “I suppose you can’t help it, and ought to be pitied for it, really. Now I know why it was you winked at me when you came to the house the other day.” “_Winked!_” gasped the horrified youth. “_Me?_” “I thought it was weakness of sight, at the time,” said the girl, “but I see my mistake now. I am sorry for you, but it can never be. I am another’s.” Bassett, utterly bereft of speech, stood eying her helplessly. “Don’t stand there making those sheep’s eyes at me,” said Rosa. “Try and forget me. Was it love at first sight, or did it come on gradual like?” Bassett, moistening his tongue, shook his head. “Am I the first girl you ever loved?” inquired Rosa, softly.