So at four o’clock, as the dusk was drawing a helmet of steel over the vagueness of the country, the sleigh was brought round. There were farewells and promises to come again; the twinkling of lanterns; the jingling of harness; the babies to be kissed; the quiet eyes of the mother who had found happiness; the atmosphere of sentiment which kindly people create for half-way lovers; then the last good-by, the steady trot of the horses, and the tinkling magic of sleigh-bells. Romance! “You like babies, Meester Deek? If ever I were married, I’d like to have a baby-girl first. They’re so cuddly and dear to dress.” He tucked the robe round her warmly and held it against her chin to keep the cold out. His free hand was clasped in hers. Then he let go her hand and slipped his arm about her, and found her hand waiting for him on the other side. “Better and better,” she murmured contentedly, “and it isn’t the day we’d planned. I feel so safe with you, Meester Deek--far safer than I ought to if I loved you. You won’t say I led you on, will you? You won’t ever?” “Never,” he promised. “That’s what the sleigh-bells seem to say. ‘Never! Never! Never!’ as though they were telling us that this is the end.” “To me they don’t say that.” His lips were against her cheek. “To me they say, ‘Forever. Forever. Forever.’” The moon, gazing down on them, recognized him and smiled. The stars clapped their hands. Even the mountains, which had slept all day, uncrouched their knees and sat up in bed to look at them. Farmhouse windows, across the drifted whiteness, blinked wisely, speaking of home and children, and an end of journeys. Sometimes she drowsed with the swaying motion. Sometimes when he thought her drowsing, her eyes were wide. “What are you thinking, dearest?” “Isn’t dear enough?” “Not now.” “It ought to be---- What was I thinking? I was wondering: could a girl make a man whom she liked very much believe that she loved him? Would he find her out?” “He’d find her out But liking’s almost loving sometimes.” “I haven’t kissed you yet. I’ve only let you kiss me. Have you noticed?” “Yes.” “When I kiss you, Meester Deek, without your asking, you’ll know then.” “Kiss me now.” She shook her head. “It would be a lie.” Once she said, “Shall we be horrid to each other one day like Horace and Fluffy?” And, when he drew her closer for answer, “I wonder why I let you do it. It’s so hard not to let you; you kiss so gently--I guess every girl loves to be loved.”