"So am I--but I am reasonable, too. I say to myself, if I don't see Euan today I will nevertheless see him to-morrow, or the day after, or the next, G.o.d willing----"

"Lois!"

"What?"

"How can you reason so coldly?"

"I--reason coldly? There is nothing cold in me where you are concerned.

But I have to console myself for not seeing you----"

"I am inconsolable," said I fervently.

"No more than am I," she retorted hotly, as though jealous that I should arrogate to myself a warmer feeling concerning her than she entertained for me.

"I care so much for you, Lois," said I.

"And I for you."

"Not as I care for you."

"Exactly as you care for me. Do you think me insensible to grat.i.tude and affection?"

"I do not desire your grat.i.tude for a few articles----"

"It isn't for them--though I'm grateful for those things too! It's grat.i.tude to G.o.d for giving me you, Euan Loskiel! And you ought to take shame to yourself for doubting it!"

I said nothing, being unable to see her in the darkness, much less perceive what expression she wore for her rebuke to me. Then as I stood silent, I felt her little hands groping on my arm; and my own closed on them and I laid my lips to them.

"Ai-me!" she said softly. "Why do we fight and fret each other? Why do I, who adore you so, let you vex me and stir me to say what I do not mean at all. Always remember, Euan--always, always--that whatever I am unkind enough to say or do to vex you, in my secret mind I know that no other man on earth is comparable to you--and that you reign first in my heart--first, and all by yourself, alone."

"And will you try to love me some day, Lois?"

"I do."

"I mean----"

"Oh, Euan, I do--I do! Only--you know--not in the manner you once spoke of----"

"But I love you in that manner."

"No, you do not! If you did, doubtless I would respond; no doubt at all that I also would confess such sentiments in your regard. But it isn't true for either of us. You're a man. All men are p.r.o.ne to harp on those strings.... But--there is no harmony in them to me.... I know my own mind, although you say I don't--and--I do know yours, too. And if a day ever comes that neither you nor I are longer able to think clearly and calmly with our minds, but begin to reason with our emotions, then I shall consider that we are really entering into a state of love--such as you sometimes have mentioned to me--and will honestly admit as much to you.... And if you then desire to wed me, no doubt that I shall desire it, too. And I promise in that event to love you--oh, to death, Euan!" she said, pressing my hands convulsively. "If ever I love--that way--it truly will be love! Are you content with what I say?"

"I must be."

"What an ungracious answer! I could beat you soundly for it! Euan, you sometimes vex me so that I could presently push you into that pool....

I do not mean it, dearest lad. You know you already have my heart--perhaps only a child's heart yet, though I have seen ages pa.s.s away.... And my eyes have known tears.... Perhaps for that reason I am come out into this new sunshine which you have made for me, to play as children play--having never done so in my youth. Bear with me, Euan.

You would not want me if there were nothing in me to respond to you. If there ever is, it will not remain silent. But first I want my play-day in the sunshine you have promised me--the sunlight of a comrade's kindness. Be not too blunt with me. You have my heart, I tell you. Let it lie quiet and safe in your keeping, like some strange, frail chrysalis. I myself know there is a miracle within it; but what that miracle may be, I may not guess till it reveals itself."

"I am a fool," I said. "G.o.d never before sent any man such a comrade as He has sent in you to me."

"That was said sweetly and loyally. Thank you. If hearts are to be awakened and won, I think it might be done that way--with such pleasant phrases--given always time."

Presently she withdrew her hands and slipped away from me in the dark.

"Be careful," said I, "or you will slip overboard."

"I mean to presently."

"Then--must I go so soon?"

She did not answer. Once I thought I heard her moving softly, but the sound came from the wrong direction.

"Lois!"

No reply.

"Lois!" I repeated uneasily.

There was a ripple in the pool, silence, then somewhere in the darkness a faint splash.

"Good Lord!" said I. "Have you fallen in?"

"Not fallen in. But I am truly in, Euan. I couldn't endure it any longer; and you didn't seem to want to go.... So please remain where you now are."

"Do you mean to say----" I began incredulously.

And, "Yes, I do!" she said, defiant. "And I think this ought to teach you what a comrade's perfect confidence can be. Never complain to me of my want of trust in you again."

In astonished and uneasy silence, I stood listening. The unseen pool rippled in the darkness with a silvery sound, as though a great fish were swirling there in the pallid l.u.s.tre of the stars.

After a while she laughed outright--the light, mischievous laughter of a child.

"I feel like one of those smooth and lurking naiads which haunt lost pools--or like some ambushed water-sprite meditating malice, and slyly alert to do you a harm. Have a care, else I transform you into a fish and chase you under the water, and pinch and torment you!"

And presently her voice came again from the more distant darkness somewhere:

"Has the box which you commanded arrived yet, Euan?"

"It is at my hut. A wagon will bring it to you in the morning."

I could hear her clap her wet little hands; and she cried out softly:

"Oh!" and "Oh!" Then she said: "I did not understand at first how much I wished for everything you offered. Only when I saw the ladies at Croghan's house, as I was coming with my mending from the fort--then I knew I wanted everything you have bespoken for me.... Everything, dear lad! Oh, you don't know how truly grateful I shall be. No, you don't, Euan! And if the box is really come, when am I going with you to be made known to Mistress Bleecker?"

"I think it is better that I first bring her to you."

"Would she condescend to come?"