They had finished their lunch and the lieutenant had paid for it, gallantly giving a substantial tip to the red-elbowed girl who had waited on them. They then left the cottage and went slowly along by the river side. The river was very full just now and made a babbling sound. The snow and cold of Christmas had given place to milder weather. There was quite a spring-like feel in the air, and the lieutenant felt more in love than ever. "Florence," he said suddenly, "do you remember what I said to you on Christmas night?" "You said a great many things to me then," she answered, somewhat flippantly; "I cannot remember them all." "But there was one very special thing, and I think I said it several times." "Oh, now I remember," she said colouring, and a different expression came into her face. Her eyes grew large and dark and were turned upon him with a certain solemnity, with a look as though she would read him through. "Tell me, tell me with your own lips what I said," was his answer. He trembled as he spoke; he was feeling desperately in love. "You said," answered Florence, "that you wished I was as poor as a church mouse in order that you could show me what--what you would do for me." "And--and I repeat it now," he said. He looked at her again. Her eyes filled with sudden tears. "What is the matter, darling?" was his next remark. "Oh, Florence! I love you with all my heart and soul. I love you for yourself-- absolutely and entirely. Say you will love me; do--do give me hope. Don't throw yourself away on some worthless fellow. Give me a chance, Florence." Florence was a good deal startled. All girls have dreamt of their first proposal, and when the proposal comes it is generally as unlike their dreams as any one thing can be unlike another. But there was something about this one, coming as it did at this special time, which touched the girl inexpressibly. "Will you give me," she said, "one month in which to consider the matter?" He thought of his debt, that debt which must be met in a month's time. He could not keep his father in uncertainty until then. "No," he said. "No; say now that you will marry me--now; promise me now, my own little Florence. If you care for me the least bit now, you will love me twice as well in a month's time." "Give me a week then," she answered. "I must think the matter over for a week--and say just once again to me that you would like me to be as poor as a church mouse in order to show me how much you care for me." He was obliged to be satisfied with this, but he talked love to her all the way home, and before they reached the village of Langdale he had even kissed her once on her forehead. Oh yes; he was in love. All was right. "Remember, in one week I come to you for the fulfilment of your promise, Florence," was his answer when at last they parted outside Mrs Fortescue's door. CHAPTER SIX. AT MR TIMMINS' OFFICE.