Through the melancholy forebodings which Winsome had so recently exhibited there rose the contagious blossom of mirth, that never could be long away even from such a fate-harassed creature as Winsome Charteris considered herself to be. "Poor fellow," she said, "you must indeed have been terribly frightened!" "I was," said Ralph Peden, with conviction. "But I do not think I should feel quite the same about it now!" They walked silently to the foot of the Craig Ronald loaning, where by mutual consent they paused. Winsome's hand was still in Ralph's. She had forgotten to take it away. She was, however, still resolved to do her duty. "Now you are sure you are not going to think of me any more?" she asked. "Quite sure," said Ralph, promptly. Winsome looked a little disappointed at the readiness of the answer. "And you won't try to see me any more?" she asked, plaintively. "Certainly not," replied Ralph, who had some new ideas. Winsome looked still more disappointed. This was not what she had expected. "Yes," said Ralph, "because I shall not need to think of you again, for I shall never stop thinking of you; and I shall not try to see you again, because I know I shall. I shall go away, but I shall come back again; and I shall never give you up, though every friend forbid and every cloud in the heavens break!" The gladness broke into his love's face in spite of all her gallant determination. "But remember," said Winsome, "I am never going to marry. On that point I am quite determined." "You can forbid me marrying you, Winsome dear," said Ralph, "but you cannot help me loving you." Indeed on this occasion and on this point of controversy Winsome did not betray any burning desire to contradict him. She gave him her hand--still with the withholding power in it, however, which told Ralph that his hour was not yet come. He bowed and kissed it--once, twice, thrice. And to him who had never kissed woman before in the way of love, it was more than many caresses to one more accustomed. Then she took her way, carrying her hand by her side tingling with consciousness. It seemed as if Ebie Farrish, who was at the watering-stone as she passed, could read what was written upon it as plain as an advertisement. She put it, therefore, into the lilac sunbonnet and so passed by. Ralph watched her as she glided, a tall and graceful young figure, under the archway of the trees, till he could no longer see her light dress glimmering through the glades of the scattered oaks. CHAPTER XXVII. THE OPINIONS OF SAUNDERS MOWDIEWORT UPON BESOMSHANKS.