And to see Norine pitying her lover’s weakness, making little blushing offers of assistance, until, unable to resist the temptation longer, he had gathered her up in his arms and held her there until she was fain to admit that he was plenty strong enough. And when they were a little less idiotically happy, but still far too happy for mere words, they walked silently along, hand in hand, and finding the path plenty wide enough for them. How happy they were! They had never seen such a pleasant afternoon, they said, not knowing, nor even caring, that they were never likely to see such another. There was very little said during the walk. Clinton wondered what Jim would say; and Norine answered, with her eyes wide open with astonishment at the question, that Jim would be very glad. What could he say when he knew that she was so happy? “We must never leave poor Jim, Clinton,” she said. “He has been _such_ a good brother, and I am all he has got.” And Clinton, probably remembering his own forlorn state in the past, promised that she should never leave her brother unless she chose. “I will go and tell him as soon as we get home,” said Clinton. But Norine begged him not to. “I must tell him,” she said. “He loves me, and when I tell him that our love will make no difference in the future, he will not mind it so much.” “I suppose he must have known that you would get married some time?” said Clinton. “Do you think so?” inquired Norine, considering the matter. “But I have never thought of it myself, sir,” with a bewitching raise of the eyebrows. “But,” she added thoughtfully, “I do not think Jim will ever marry, and I feel as if I were sacrificing his happiness for mine.” Clinton protested vigorously against this view of the case, showing her that Jim would be the happier for seeing her happiness, and that Jim would be his brother, and that he--Clinton--would do all he could to contribute to his brother’s happiness. And Norine thanked him with a glance from eyes dewy with happiness and love; and so, hand in hand they came out of the woods in front of the cottage. They could see Jim, swinging along through the fields on his way home, as they crossed the road; and Norine could hardly refrain from running to meet him, and telling him then and there. She thought better of it, however, and entered the cottage to assist Mrs. Higgins in her preparations for supper. There was no need of telling Mrs. Higgins. That penetrating female had arrived at a full and complete knowledge of the case as soon as she caught sight of Norine’s blushing face. Mrs. Higgins snorted a little as she looked at Clinton, but her face softened wonderfully as Norine entered the kitchen. “I wish ye ji, Norry,” she said. “What on?” inquired Norine, blushing. “On yer bo,” replied Mrs. Higgins sententiously.