"I might be almost alone in the world. My two sisters are married. They live in small houses. There wouldn't be room for me. I like this place, but, oh, dear! some places be awful. It's selfish to think of myself, but I can't help it." "'Tis a heartsome thing to think about. I think about you, Fancy, when I drive slow along our roads. You fill my mind, you do." He hoped fervently that she would say what he wanted and confess outright that she let some of her thoughts dwell on him. But again the poor fellow was grievously disappointed. She murmured confusedly: "How funny!" "Funny be damned!" "Alfred----!" "I don't care. I'm moved as if I'd taken your father's horse medicine. You're raking me up with a small tooth-comb. If I think of you all the time, 'twould seem fair that you'd think of me some of the time." "Perhaps I do." "Ah-h-h! That's better. We're coming to grips." As if contradicting this, the aggravating witch raised her head. Alfred grew desperate. Had he been browsing in a fool's paradise? The thought palsied speech. He spoke angrily: "I see how 'tis. You lie awake shaking with laughter, thinking what I fool I am." "Gracious! If you talk like that, I shall think so." "I am a fool about you. 'Tis a fact. I ain't ashamed on't." "Folks say...." She hesitated; her eyes twinkled demurely, but he couldn't see them. "Well, what do folks say?" "That you're a oner with girls, on and off like." "On and off? You're throwing big Eliza at my head. If I was a true soldier man, always bragging about my victorious marches with women, I might tell you 'twas t'other way about. Being only a timorsome carrier, and a lover of God Almighty's truth, I say this. Eliza scairt the gizzard out of me, she did. I fair ran away from her audacious, ungenteel attacks. Now you have it." Fancy laughed. Alfred fumed on, beside himself with love and impatience. "I've walked out with many maids, some not so maidenly as might be. I'm a picker and chooser, getting that much sense from my mother. I never walked long with any of 'em. If you'd happened along fifteen years ago, when the first petticoat hit me in eye, I'd have remained true and faithful to you--so help me God!" She remained silent, twisting her fingers. He said hoarsely: "I want you desperately for my wife, Fancy Broomfield. And you know it, being a clever maid. Now--don't you want me?" He felt her body relaxing, almost slipping from him. Then, very slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, and he read in their luminous depths the blessed answer which her quivering lips withheld. He kissed her reverently and tenderly. To his surprise and delight, she kissed him, clinging to him, and whispering pantingly: "You'll be kind to me, Alfred; I know you will. I'm such a poor wife for the likes of you. Your mother thinks so, and your Aunt Jane." "You can twist them round your lil' finger." "I believe you love your motor-'bus more than me."