“I can't take it back—I won't!” cried young Teesdale excitedly. “Consider it only as a Christmas box—surely your father's godson may give you a little bit of a Christmas box? That's me, Missy, and anything else I've gone and said you must forgive and forget too, for it was all a slip. I didn't mean to say it, Missy, I didn't indeed. I hope I know my position better than that. But this here little trumpery what-you-call-it, you must accept it as a Christmas present from us all. Yes, that's what you must do; for I'm bothered if I take it back.” “You must,” repeated Missy very calmly. “I think you mean to break my heart between you with your kindness. Here's the box and here's the bangle.” John William looked once and for all into the resolute light eyes. Then first he took the box and put the lid on it, and stowed it away in his breastpocket; and after that he took that gold bangle, very gingerly, between finger and thumb, and spun it out into the centre of the brown river, where it made bigger, widening bangles, that took the best part of a minute to fail and die away. Then everything was stiller than before; and stillest of all were the man and the woman who stood facing each other on the bank, speckled with the steep sunlight that came down on them like rain through the leaves of the river-timber overhead. “That was bad,” said Missy at last. “Something else was worse. It's not much good your trying to hedge matters with me; and for my part I'm going to speak straight and plain for once. If I thought that you'd gone and fallen in love with me—as sure as we're standing here, Jack, I'd put myself where you've put that bangle.” Her hand pointed to the place. There was neither tremor in the one nor ripple upon the other. “But why?” Teesdale could only gasp. “Because I'm so far below you.” “Missy! Missy!” he was beginning passionately, but she checked him at once. “Let well alone, Jack. I've spoken God's truth. I'm not going to say any more; only when you know all about me—as you may any day now—perhaps even to-day—don't say that I told nothing but lies. That's all. Now must I go back to the house, or will you?” He glanced towards the river with unconscious significance. She shook her head and smiled. He hung his, and went away. Once more Missy was alone among the river-timber; once more she flung herself down upon the short, dry grass, but this time upon her back, while her eyes and her ears were wide open.