Patty made no answer, and Tom was not sure that she heard him. Neither of them said another word until Patty said, in a low voice, “I guess we’d better go home now, Thomas.” Then they turned and walked back again to the old mill. Tom opened the gate for Patty. “Farewell, Patty,” said he. “Won’t thee come up and see father, Thomas?” said she. “Not to-night.” “Farewell, then.” Tom watched her until she had gone up the porch steps and was hidden by the vines that were clustered about it. He heard Elihu say, “Where’s Thomas?” but he did not hear Patty’s answer; then he turned and walked slowly homeward. The summer passed, the fall passed, the winter passed, and the spring time had come again. Tom’s walk with Patty seemed to have broken through the smoothness of the acquaintance betwixt the three. Elihu had never been the same to him since that night; he had never been as cordial or as friendly as he had been before. Sometimes it seemed to Tom as though Patty herself was growing tired of seeing so much of him. At such times he would vow within himself as he walked homeward that he would never call there again, and yet he always went back after a while. So things moved along without that pleasant friendliness in their acquaintanceship until that occurred which altered the face of everything. One First-day afternoon, Tom found himself standing on the porch of the mill-house. It was in the early part of April, but the day was very mild and soft, and Elihu and Patty were sitting on the porch. “How is thee, Thomas?” said Elihu. He did not take the pipe from his lips as he spoke, neither did he ask the other to be seated. Tom stood leaning against the post and no one spoke for a while. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” said Patty. “Yes, it is,” said Tom; “would thee like to take a walk up the road as far as Whiteley’s?” “Yes, I would,” said Patty; “I haven’t been away from the house all day.” “It’s very damp; it’s too damp to walk,” said Elihu; “besides, thee’s got thy thin shoes on.” “But we’ll walk in the road, father; I’ll promise not to go off of the road. I’ll put on heavier shoes if thee thinks that these are too thin.” “Very well, do as thee pleases,” said Elihu, sharply; “I think it’s too damp, but I suppose thee’ll do as thee chooses.” Then he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and went into the house without another word, shutting the door carefully behind him. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me to go,” said Patty; “it’s a lovely day for a walk. Wait till I go in and speak to him, maybe he’ll change his mind;” and she followed her father into the house. “I can’t bear this any longer;” said Tom to himself. “I’ll have it over this afternoon, or I’ll never come here again. I’ll ask her to be my wife, and if the worst comes to the worst I’ll ship for another cruise.” Presently Patty came out of the house again. She had thrown a scarf over her shoulders. “Is thee ready to go, Thomas?” said she. “Yes; I’m ready.”