“And the glory of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea!” said Andrew. “And men's hearts shall be full of bliss, because they have found their Father, and He is what He is, and they are going home to Him.” He rose. “You will come and see me again soon--will you not?” she said. “As often as you please, ma'am; I am your servant.” “Then come to-morrow.” He went on the morrow, and the next day, and the day after--almost every day while Dawtie was waiting her trial. Almost every morning Alexa went by train to see Dawtie; and the news she brought, Andrew would carry to the girl's parents. Dawtie continued unwilling to see Andrew: he had had trouble enough with her already, she said; but Andrew could not quite understand her refusal. CHAPTER XXXIII. A GREAT OFFERING. Two days before the assizes, Andrew was with Alexa in her parlor. It was a cool autumn evening, and she proposed they should go on the heath, which came close up to the back of the house. When they reached the top of the hill, a cold wind was blowing, and Andrew, full of care for old and young, man and woman, made Alexa draw her shawl closer about her throat, where, with his rough, plow-man hands, he pinned it for her. She saw, felt, and noted his hands; a pitying admiration, of which only the pity was foolish, woke in her; and ere she knew, she was looking up in his face with such a light in her eyes that Andrew found himself embarrassed, and let his fall. Moved by that sense of class-superiority which has no place in the kingdom of heaven, she attributed his modesty to self-depreciation, and the conviction rose in her, which has often risen in such as she, that there is a magnanimity demanding the sacrifice, not merely of conventional dignity, but of conventional propriety. She felt that a great lady, to be more than great, must stoop; that it was her part to make the approach which, between equals, was the part of the man; the patroness _must_ do what the woman might not. This man was worthy of any woman; and he should not, because of the humility that dared not presume, fail of what he deserved! “Andrew,” she said, “I am going to do an unusual thing, but you are not like other men, and will not misunderstand! I know you now--know you as far above other men as the clouds are above this heath!” “Oh, no, no, ma'am!” protested Andrew. “Hear me out, Andrew,” she interrupted--then paused a little. “Tell me,” she resumed, “ought we not to love best the best we know?” “Surely, ma'am!” he answered, uncomfortable, but not anticipating what was on the way. “Andrew, you are the best I know! I have said it! I do not care what the world thinks; you are more to me than all the worlds! If you will take me, I am yours.” She looked him in the face with the feeling that she had done a brave and a right thing. Andrew stood stock-still. “_Me_, ma'am!” he gasped, and grew pale--then red as a foggy sun. But he made scarcely a moment's pause.