“I've been asking Little Ann to marry me,” he announced, “and she won't.” He sat down in a chair helplessly, and let his head fall into his hands. “Eh!” exclaimed Hutchinson. He turned and looked at Ann disturbedly. “I thought a bit ago tha didn't deny but what tha'd took to him?” “I didn't, Father,” she answered. “I don't change my mind that quick. I--would have been willing to say 'Yes' when you wouldn't have been willing to let me. I didn't know he was Mr. Temple Barholm then.” Hutchinson rubbed the back of his head, reddening and rather bristling. “Dost tha think th' Temple Barholms would look down on thee?” “I should look down on myself if I took him up at his first words, when he's all upset with excitement, and hasn't had time to find out what things mean. I'm--well, I 'm too fond of him, Father.” Hutchinson gave her a long, steady look. “You are?” he said. “Yes, I am.” Tembarom lifted his head, and looked at her, too. “Are you?” he asked. She put her hands behind her back, and returned his look with the calm of ages. “I'm not going to argue about it,” she answered. “Arguing's silly.” His involuntary rising and standing before her was a sort of unconscious tribute of respect. “I know that,” he owned. “I know you. That's why I take it like this. But I want you to tell me one thing. If this hadn't happened, if I'd only had twenty dollars a week, would you have taken me?” “If you'd had fifteen, and Father could have spared me, I'd have taken you. Fifteen dollars a week is three pounds two and sixpence, and I've known curates' wives that had to bring up families on less. It wouldn't go as far in New York as it would in the country in England, but we could have made it do--until you got more. I know you, too, Mr. Temple Barholm.” He turned to her father, and saw in his florid countenance that which spurred him to bold disclosure. “Say,” he put it to him, as man to man, “she stands there and says a thing like that, and she expects a fellow not to jerk her into his arms and squeeze the life out of her! I daren't do it, and I'm not going to try; but--well, you said her mother was like her, and I guess you know what I'm up against.” Hutchinson's grunting chuckle contained implications of exultant tenderness and gratified paternal pride. “She's th' very spit and image of her mother,” he said, “and she had th' sense of ten women rolled into one, and th' love of twenty. You let her be, and you're as safe as th' Rock of Ages.” “Do you think I don't know that?” answered Tembarom, his eyes shining almost to moisture. “But what hits me, by thunder! is that I've lost the chance of seeing her work out that fifteen-dollar-a-week proposition, and it drives me crazy.” “I should have downright liked to try it,” said Little Ann, with speculative reflection, and while she knitted her brows in lovely consideration of the attractive problem, several previously unknown dimples declared themselves about her mouth.