“Not a soul would know until afterward,” continued Mr. Truefitt, in an ardent whisper. “It could all be kept as quiet as possible. I’ll have the license ready, and you could just slip out for a morning walk and meet me at the church, and there you are. And it’s ridiculous of two people of our age to go to such trouble.” “Mother would never forgive me,” murmured Miss Willett. “Never!” “She’d come round in time,” said Mr. Truefitt. “Never!” said Miss Willett. “You don’t know mother’s strength of mind. But I mustn’t stay and listen to such things. It’s wicked!” She got up and slipped into the garden, and with Mr. Truefitt in attendance paced up and down the narrow paths. “Besides,” she said, after a long silence, “I shouldn’t like to share housekeeping with your sister. It would only lead to trouble between us, I am sure.” Mr. Truefitt came to a halt in the middle of the path, and stood rumpling his hair again as an aid to thought. Captain Sellers, who was looking over his fence, waved a cheery salutation. “Fine evening,” he piped. The other responded with a brief nod. “What did you say?” inquired Captain Sellers, who was languishing for a little conversation. “Didn’t say anything!” bawled Mr. Truefitt. “You must speak up if you want me to hear you!” cried the captain. “It’s one o’ my bad days.” Truefitt shook his head, and placing himself by the side of Miss Willett resumed his walk. Three fences away, Captain Sellers kept pace with them. “Nothing fresh about Trimblett, I suppose?” he yelled. Truefitt shook his head again. “He’s a deep ’un!” cried Sellers—“wonderful deep! How’s the other one? Bearing up? I ain’t seen her about the last day or two. I believe that was all a dodge of Trimblett’s to put us off the scent. It made a fool of me.” Mr. Truefitt, with a nervous glance at the open windows of his house, turned and walked hastily down the garden again. “He quite deceived me,” continued Captain Sellers, following—“quite. What did you say?” “Nothing,” bawled Mr. Truefitt, with sudden ferocity. “Eh!” yelled the captain, leaning over the fence with his hand to his ear. “Nothing!” “Eh?” said the captain, anxiously. “Speak up! What?” “Oh, go to—Jericho!” muttered Mr. Truefitt, and, taking Miss Willett by the arm, disappeared into the summer-house again. “Where were we when that old idiot interrupted us?” he inquired, tenderly. Miss Willett told him, and, nestling within his encircling arm, listened with as forbidding an expression as she could command to further arguments on the subject of secret marriages. “It’s no use,” she said at last “I mustn’t listen. It’s wicked. I am surprised at you, Peter. You must never speak to me on the subject again.” She put her head on his shoulder, and Mr. Truefitt, getting a better grip with his arm, drew her toward him. “Think it over,” he whispered, and bent and kissed her. “Never,” was the reply.