"Why," he said, "I know well enough you're miles too good for a chap like me--but if you don't think so, that's all right. And I tell you straight, you're the only girl I ever so much as fancied." "Oh," she breathed, "do you mean--" "You know well enough what I mean, my pretty," he said; "but if you want it said out like in books, I've got it all on my tongue. I love every inch of you, and your clever ways, and your pretty talk. I haven't touched a drop these eight months--I shall get on right enough with you to help me--and we'll be so happy as never was. There ain't ne'er a man in England'll set more store by his wife nor I will by you, nor be prouder on her. You shan't do no hard work--I promise you that. Only just drive out with me and turn the customers round your finger. I don't ask no questions about you nor your folks. I _know_ you're an honest girl, and I'd trust you with my head. Come, give me a kiss, love, and call it a bargain." She had stood up while he was speaking, but she literally could not find words to stop the flow of his speech. Now she shrank back and said, "No--no!" "Don't you be so shy, my dear," he said. "Come--just one! And then I'll take you home and interduce you to my sister. You'll like her. I've told her all about you." Waves of unthinkable horror seemed to be closing over her head. She struck out bravely, and it seemed as though she were swimming for her life. "No," she cried, "it's impossible! You don't understand! You don't know!" "I know you've been keeping company with me these ten days," he said, and his voice had changed. "What did you do it for if you didn't mean nothing by it?" "I didn't know," she said wretchedly. "I thought you liked being friends." "If it's what you call 'friends,' being all day long with a chap, I don't so call it," he said. "But come--you're playing skittish now, ain't you? Don't tease a chap like this. Can't you see I love you too much to stand it? I know it sounds silly to say it--but I love you before all the world--I do--my word I do!" He held out his arms. "I see--I see you do," she cried, all her tact washed away by this mighty sea that had suddenly swept over her. "But I can't. I'm--I'm en--I'm promised to another young man." "I wonder what he'll say to this," he said slowly. "I'm so--so sorry," she said; "I'd no idea--" "I see," he said, "you was just passing the time with me--and you never wanted me at all. And I thought you did. Get in, miss. I'll take you back to the town. I've just about had enough holiday for one day." "I _am_ so sorry," she kept saying. But he never answered. "Do forgive me!" she said at last. "Indeed, I didn't mean--" "Didn't mean," said he, lashing up the brown horse; "no--and it don't matter to you if I think about you and want you every day and every night so long as I live. It ain't nothing to you. You've had your fun. And you've got your sweetheart. God, I wish him joy of you!"