"Time has not been to-night," he said, with the smile upon his lip quivering as if the tears were in his eyes as well as in mine. "Once more, Hester, let me look at this glorious bit of road that has brought me fortune. Here--it was just here--winter should never come to this spot; and there is a faint timid footstep in the sand. My sovereign lady was afraid of me! If you had but known what a poor coward I was, how I trembled for those words which would not come, and how you held my fate in your hand, and played with it. Love is quite bad enough--but Love and Fear! how is a single man to stand against them!" "I do not think you looked very much afraid," said I. "You cannot tell--you never vouchsafed me a glance," said Harry, "and Fear is the very soul of daring; when a man will rather hear the worst than hear nothing, Hester, his courage is not very cool, I can tell you. And how unmindful you were!" "Hush! hush! I am sure it is very late," said I, "I must go home." "But not without me, Hester," said my companion. I did not want him to leave me, certainly; but I was a little startled. My father! what would he say? how would he receive this unexpected accomplishment of his desires? The idea agitated and excited me. I suddenly felt as if this meeting of ours had been clandestine and underhand. I did not know what I could say to my father, and Alice would be anxious about myself already. "You would not prolong my suspense, Hester," said Harry, as we slowly took the way home; "you know I cannot rest till I have spoken to your father--have I a rival, then--do you see difficulties? or is it that you would rather tell him with your own sweet lips what you have never yet told me?" "No--no--I do not want to speak to him first," said I, hurriedly, "but he is not well--he is not strong--agitation hurts him; yet perhaps this would not agitate him," I continued with involuntary sadness--"perhaps, indeed, it is better he should know." "I think it will not agitate him. I think, perhaps, he will not be much surprised, except indeed that I should have won what I have long aimed at," said Harry. "I met his eye the last time I saw him, Hester!" "And what then?" I asked eagerly. "Nothing much, except that I think that he knew the sad condition I was in," said Harry, with a smile, "and remembered somebody who was the light of his eyes in his own youth--for I think he did not look unkindly on me." "But he never could suspect anything," said I. "Did you never suspect anything, you hard heart?" he said; "you would not shake hands with me. You would not look at me. You never would come frankly out into the garden where a poor fellow could see you. Do you mean to tell me now that you were not afraid of me, and did not feel that I was your fate?" "Hush! hush!" I repeated again. "And Mr. Osborne and Alice--you do not mean that everybody knew?"