After a while she drew her hand gently away. "Was it this that you meant to tell me?" she asked, and John smiled back "Yes."

There was another silence of a few minutes. Galbraith breathed a silent prayer for the blessing which he believed had been vouchsafed to him. "Lord," he murmured to himself, "I see thy work in this."

"It's getting late," said Halsa suddenly. "They must be back from church now, and will miss us." She rose and stood near Galbraith, her dress touching him. John stood up meekly, and as he stood the widow started back with a little cry, "Don't!"

"Don't--what?"

"I--I thought----" She did not finish her sentence, for the next moment Galbraith's arm was round her waist, and he drew her toward him. Except his mother, he had never touched lip of woman. He kissed her gently with the tenderest possible pressure, and then he kissed her again and again, until at last Halsa drew herself from his arm.

"There," she said, "I think that's enough for you to-day."

John wondered to himself if he could ever have enough of the nectar he had tasted.

"We must really go in now," said Halsa decisively.

"One kiss more," he pleaded. His arm was round her waist; her lips were once more raised to his, when there was a crash in the lentena hedge, a rush of scampering feet, and a shrill voice called out:

"Oh my! how nice! I'm going to tell mummy."

The lovers shot back from each other, and the widow bit her lips with anger.

"It's that horrid little Eddy Bunny. He must have been watching us the whole time. I should like to shake him," and she stamped her foot.

John recovered himself. "Never mind, darling," he said. "Eddy will only break the news for us."

It was wonderful how easy it all seemed now.

CHAPTER V.

MRS. BUNNY DOUBTS.

On Sundays the carved blackwood furniture in the Bunny's drawing-room emerged from its weekly suit of holland and shone resplendent in red satin upholstery. Mr. Bunny had exchanged his boots for a pair of list slippers, and was seated in a straight-backed chair, his spectacles pushed on to his forehead. He was a little ill-tempered at having had to take that long road home, and regretted that he had not taken out his brownberry. It was just this point, however, that he was unwilling to concede to Elder Bullin. In a recent argument Bunny maintained that it was flying in the face of divine law to work a horse on a Sunday.

The elder held more practical opinions on the subject, and there had almost been an open rupture. Since that time, however, Bunny walked to church on the Sabbath, but was beginning to regret his line of action.

He was not a young man, and adipose tissue had increased with his years. It irritated him to see the elder pa.s.s him with his pair of katty-war horses. Bunny had only one. The irritation he felt, however, was equalled by the sense of satisfaction that stole over the elder as he pa.s.sed his opponent engaged in carrying out his convictions. There was a rustle, and Mrs. Bunny came into the room in her black silk dress. She was nearly fifteen years younger than her husband, a somewhat uncommon thing in the cla.s.s of life to which they belonged, where husband and wife are mostly of the same age, or very near it.

Her active habits had, moreover, prevented her from running into flesh as most Eurasian women do. She came into the room briskly, stopped, set some gra.s.s in a vase straight, and picking up The Evangelical Record, the organ of the Methodist community, settled herself in a chair opposite Bunny, after giving a satisfied glance round the room.

"Halsa and Mr. Galbraith haven't come in yet?" said Bunny, a tone of inquiry in his voice.

"They'll be in just now," replied his wife, unfolding the sheets of the paper and smiling to herself. She was a cunning little woman, and had long read Galbraith's feelings in his eyes.

"Where's Eddy?" asked the father. Eddy was their only child, a boy about twelve years of age. "I think I'll hear him his chapter," he added.

"Yes--where's the boy? Ed-dee!--Ed-dee!" and Mrs. Bunny cried aloud for her offspring.

There was a patter of footsteps in the hall, a rush up the pa.s.sage, and Eddy burst into the room.

"Oh, maw!" he exclaimed, "Mr. Galbraith is kissing Aunty Halsa in the garden!"

"What!" shouted Bunny, fairly jumping to his feet.

Mrs. Bunny burst out laughing. "You old goose, wait till they come in, and you'll hear more."

"On the Lord's day, too!" said Bunny, holding up his hands. "And what were you doing in the garden? Have you learned your chapter?"

Eddy shuffled from one leg to the other. "It was very long," he protested with a whimper.

"I'll long you--come with me," and Bunny took Eddy's right ear between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand.

Eddy set up a dolorous howling, and Mrs. Bunny interposed. "Remember it's Sunday, Tom," she said.

"Oh--here you are," she added, as Galbraith and Halsa came into the room. Eddy seized his opportunity, and made a run for it.

Galbraith came forward at once, leading Halsa by the hand.

"Mr. Bunny," he said, "I have asked Halsa to be my wife, and she has said----"

"Yes--I knew she would," and Mrs. Bunny kissed Halsa, who blushed and trembled very much.

Mr. Bunny shook hands alternately with Halsa and Galbraith.

"I am very glad," he said. "I didn't think of this; but I am very glad."

After a while Galbraith left. It was agreed that the engagement should be given out at the next meeting of the Council of the Tabernacle, which was to be held in a few days.

"But Eddy knows all about it," said Mrs. Bunny, and Halsa blushed furiously, while Galbraith looked helplessly around.

"I don't think Eddy will say much after I have spoken to him," said Bunny; "and, Galbraith, don't forget that you dine here to-night."

They all walked home after the evening service, and dined quietly and happily together. When the time came for Galbraith to go, Halsa walked with him to the gate. They lingered for a moment there together.

"Good-night, John." She raised her face to his, and he kissed her softly.

"You do not regret?" asked Galbraith, and for answer Halsa kissed him of her own accord. He turned at last, and vanished into the gloom.

That night when they retired to rest, and Bunny and his wife had read a chapter of the big leather-covered Bible, which lay on a small table in their bedroom, Mrs. Bunny turned to her husband.

"Tom," she said, "what if all this should end badly? I am frightened now."

"Why should it end badly?" and Bunny wiped his spectacles carefully and folded them into their case.

"I am afraid now--I don't know why. Why don't you tell me all about Halsa? You never have."

"There's not much to tell. You knew Stephen Lamport, my cousin, when he married Halsa six years ago, and we went on board the Petrel and met them. You know what a scoundrel Stephen was. He led her an awful life for six years, and then deserted her before that last voyage of his to the Mauritius, when the Mahi went down with all on board.

Lamport was a big blackguard, but he is dead now."