The magic of the music gave back his voice to Clem. "If I were to live to be a hundred I should never forget that air," he said. "Have you no recollection of having heard it before?" "I seem to remember having heard it somewhere," answered Hermia, with a finger-tip pressed to her lips, as if in doubt, although in reality she had no doubt at all on the point. "Oh! then you have not quite forgotten!" he cried, a great light of gladness breaking over his face. "We heard it played, in the distance, that evening last spring by the banks of the Dene. I have often wondered what it is called." Hermia could have told him its name had she been minded to do so. She had chanced on it one day when she was buying some music, and had at once recognized it, but as it was she kept her own counsel. "Yes," said Clem, at length, as if in continuation of some unspoken train of thought, "I shall never forget that evening. It was then that I first became sure of something which I had more than half suspected for months before." "My own case exactly," whispered Hermia to herself; but she went on demurely with her work, and did not even lift her eyes in response. "Can you not guess what it was that evening made me so sure of?" demanded Clem, next moment, as he leaned forward with crossed arms on the table which divided them. "Can you not guess?" he asked again. He had made the plunge and was becoming reckless. "How should I?" answered Hermia, with a little shake of her head, but still without looking up. "I was always a poor hand at guessing. "It was then the sweet certainty came to me that I loved you!" Again no answer save a blush, but to herself Hermia said: "And to me that I loved you!" "It is a certainty which has dwelt with me ever since, and one that will never leave me while I have breath to speak your name." He was getting on very promisingly for a young man who had been as dumb as a flounder only five minutes before. Then, almost before Hermia knew what had happened, he was on a chair by her side, and had one of her hands imprisoned in his. No wonder her heart beat tumultuously; indeed, so taken aback was she by his audacity that, for the moment, she quite forgot to make any effort to regain possession of her hand. The hand was lifted to Clem's lips, and an impassioned kiss imprinted on it; then, indeed, Hermia strove to withdraw it, but to no purpose. "Listen," said Clem, bending his face till it was within a few inches of hers. "I have just told you the secret which for many long months I have hidden carefully from everyone--from you no less than from others." "Perhaps he has not hidden it quite so carefully as he thinks," whispered Hermia in her heart. "You can now guess why I am here to-night. It is to tell you that I love you--a little thing to tell, but to me how full of meaning!--to tell you that all my happiness is bound up in you, and then to ask you whether you will try to love me a little in return."