"Nay, is it not?" he said, with well-assumed carelessness; "all the same, I am right glad I came it, since I have met you upon it, Ruth dear." "That is fine talking," pouted Ruth; "but you're not telling me the truth, Lawrence. You weren't going to Waltham." [Sidenote: Sharp words.] "Wasn't I?" returned the young man, flushing a little. "Well, look here, my dear, people who ask no questions, hear no lies. I doubt I may go where I list, without Mistress Ruth Rumbold's leave," and then he made a pretence of being about to stalk on; but the attempt was a sorry failure, breaking down instantly as he saw the tears brimming up into the eyes so persistently fixed on the silly lambs. "Ruth," he whispered, as in a moment he was beside her again; and taking her chin in his hands, he turned her face up to his, "come, let's kiss and be friends. Eh, shall we? You know I'd not vex you for--for--a king's ransom. Indeed I did not mean to vex you, only--there, it was so plaguy inquisitive of you, don't you know, to--there, never mind; what have you got in this basket?" concluded he, turning the conversation, like the wise diplomatist he thought himself. "Now who's inquisitive, I wonder?" cried Ruth, folding her arms tight down upon the lid of the basket, and breaking into a saucy smile, which, however, faded in an instant. "Lawrence, where were you going? Tell me, dear." "If you'll tell me what you've got in that basket, perhaps I may," laughed he. "Come, is it a bargain, Mistress Pry?" "Yes, Mr. Pry." "To Hoddesdon, then. There, I hope you're happier for the information." "Not happier; no, Lawrence," she answered very slowly. "Wait a bit now," she went on, as he laid aggressive hands on the basket. "To Hoddesdon! What for?" "Oh, come now, that's not in the bond. Why, nothing; nothing, little woman, that you know anything about." "But I want to know," insisted she, still valiantly protecting the basket's most vulnerable points; "that's just it, I want to know." "Then want must be your master," he said angrily. "Little girls must not know everything," he added, mending his rude speech, and seizing basket, and Ruth, and all in his arms. "I'm not a little girl any longer," she cried, struggling to free herself, and digging her pink nails ever so hard into his bronzed wrists, till he decided to loosen his hold. "No, you're a little wild kitten, with the sharpest claws in the world; that's what you are," he said; "but it won't do, I'm master." [Sidenote: A bitter secret.] "'Tis no good you're going to Hoddesdon for," she said bluntly, looking up into his laughing eyes, "or you'd tell me when I ask you, without all this silly nonsense. You never kept a secret from me before, Lawrence." "Perhaps I never had one to keep." "But now?"