"Listening to you has made me forget all about the time and everything," she said. "They'll wonder whatever has befallen me." "I'll see you home," he answered. "'Tis my fault you'll be late, and I must take the blame." "And I've kept you from your work, I'm afraid." "That's no matter at all. To-morrow will do just as well for the alder." He rose and walked beside her. She asked him to help her at one place in the wood, and her cool, firm hand thrilled him. Once or twice he thought to take this noble opportunity and utter the thing in his heart; but he could not bring himself to do it. Then, at her gate, he left her, and they exchanged many assurances of mutual thanks and obligation. He promised to bring the ferns in three days' time, and undertook to spend an evening with the Linterns, build the rockery, and stay to supper with the family afterwards. He walked home treading on air, with his mind full of hope and happiness. Cora had never been so close as on this day; she had never vouchsafed such an intimate glimpse of her beautiful spirit before. Each word, each look seemed to bring her nearer; and yet, when he reflected on his own imperfections, a wave of doubt swept coldly over him. He supped in silence, but, after the meal, he confessed the thoughts in his mind. "Never broke a twig this evening," he said. "Was just going to begin, when who should come along but Cora Lintern." "Has she forgiven parson for turning her out of the choir? Can't practise that side-glance at the men no more now." "She's not that sort, father." "Not with a face like hers? That girl would rather go hungry than without admiration and flattering. A little peacock, and so vain as one." "You're wrong there. I'll swear it. She's very different to what you reckon. Why, this very evening, there she was under the Water Stone all alone--walking along by herself just for love of the place. Often goes there, she tells me." "Very surprised to find you there--eh?" "That she was. And somehow I got talking--such a silent man as me most times. But I found myself chattering about the bells and one thing and another. We've got a lot more in common than you might think." Mr. Baskerville smoked and looked into the fire. "Well, don't be in a hurry. I'm not against marriage for the young men. But bide your time, till you've got more understanding of women." "I'll never find another like her. I'm sure she'd please you, father." "You'll be rich in a small way, as the world goes, presently. Remember, she knows that as well as you do." "She never speaks of money. Just so simple and easily pleased as I am myself, for that matter. She loves natural things--just the things you care about yourself." "And very much interested in tenor bell, no doubt?"