"The last of the year, I think," said she. "The wind would have torn them off, if aunt Sally and I had not." And she took them up from the spinet to breath their odor. Meanwhile Mr. Valentine had been whispering to Miss Sally at the fireplace. As a result of his communications, whatever they were, the aunt first looked doubtful, then cast a wistful glance at Peyton, and then quietly left the room, followed by the old man, who carefully closed the door after him. While Elizabeth held the flowers to her nostrils, Peyton continued to stand looking at her, during an awkward pause. At length she replaced the nosegay on the spinet, and went to the fireplace, where she gazed at the writhing flames, and waited for him to speak. Still laden with the cloak and hat, he desperately began: "Miss Philipse, I--ahem--before I start on my walk to-night--" "Your walk?" she said, in slight surprise. "Yes,--back to our lines, above." "But you are not going to _walk_ back," she said, in a low tone. "You are to have the horse, Cato." Peyton stood startled. In a few moments he gulped down his feelings, and stammered: "Oh--indeed--Miss Philipse--I cannot think of depriving you--especially after the circumstances." She replied, with a gentle smile: "You took the horse when I refused him to you. Now will you not have him when I offer him to you? You must, captain! I'll not have so fine a horse go begging for a master. I'll not hear of your walking. On such a night, such a distance, through such a country!" "The devil!" thought Harry. "This makes it ten times harder!" Elizabeth now turned to face him directly. "Does not my cloak incommode you?" she said, amusedly. "You may put it down." "Oh, thank you, yes!" he said, feeling very red, and went to lay the cloak on the table, but in his confusion put down his own hat there, and kept the cloak over his arm. He then met her look recklessly, and blurted out: "The truth is, Miss Philipse, now that I am soon to leave, I have something to--to say to you." His boldness here forsook him, and he paused. "I know it," said Elizabeth, serenely, repressing all outward sign of her heart's blissful agitation. "You do?" quoth he, astonished. "Certainly," she answered, simply. "How could you leave without saying it?" Peyton had a moment's puzzlement. Then, "Without saying what?" he asked. "What you have to say," she replied, blushing, and lowering her eyes. "But what have I to say?" he persisted. She was silent a moment, then saw that she must help him out. "Don't you know? You were not at all tongue-tied when you said it the evening you came here." Peyton felt a gulf opening before him. "Good heaven," thought he, "she actually believes I am about to propose!" Now, or never, was the time for the plunge. He drew a full breath, and braced himself to make it.