“It’s right, I tell ’ee,” he said firmly. “I’m not a great hand at letter-writin’, an’ as like as not if I’d ha’ tried for to put down what be in my mind I shouldn’t ha’ done it so clever. I’m much obliged to you, neighbours,” he added, raising his voice, and looking triumphantly round at the astonished faces. Then, with a sudden shout of laughter he exclaimed— “Who’s April fools now?” “Well, there, I’ll say you have the best o’ it, Giles,” said somebody good-humouredly. “I be right down glad the matter be going to end this way.” “Thank ye,” said Giles. “We be to wish ye j’y, be we?” said Lizzie, with a scarcely perceptible toss of her head. “I d’ ’low ye be,” he affirmed gravely. “Well, I be pure glad, Hannah, my dear, I’m sure,” said Alice, smiling doubtfully at Hannah as she backed through the hedge. Hannah made no response; she, too, was looking doubtful, almost piteous, as she gazed at Giles’ unmoved countenance. The company filed away, feeling somewhat flat; the joke had unaccountably missed fire. Jem, who was the last to pass through the gap, made a final attempt to put Giles out of countenance. “’Tis easy seen you be a man o’ taste, Giles,” he called out. “She be the vittiest maid in the whole o’ Darset, bain’t she?” “She be,” assented Giles with fervour, “jist about.” He strode towards the hedge, and stood watching the somewhat depressed-looking little procession which filed across the field. When it had disappeared behind the big hayrick at the corner, he turned to Hannah. She had again thrown her apron over her head, and was weeping behind it. He went towards her and pulled it down—very gently this time. “We have the best of it, I think,” he observed. “Oh, Giles,” sobbed she. “You must think—oh, I don’t know what you must think!” “I do think what’s wrote in my letter,” said Giles. “Nay now, you couldn’t,” said Hannah, but there was an unconscious appeal in her voice. “You couldn’t ever think I was a vitty maid.” “Well, don’t you think I be a ’andsome man, my dear?” cried Giles, advancing, his broad face beaming with good-humoured smiles towards her. “I do, indeed I do,” cried Hannah with eager enthusiasm. “There, I do think ye be the handsomest and nicest man ever I did see. Handsome is as handsome does. An’ I d’ ’low you’ve acted handsome.” “Well, if you think so, I’m satisfied,” responded Giles; then, after a pause, he added with his most knowing twinkle— “Since we agree so well I d’ ’low we mid jist so well fall over pulpit at once.” * * * * * PRINTED BY TURNBULL AND SPEARS, EDINBURGH