"I have! It required a good bit of courage, but I've done it."

"And she has accepted?"

"She has not rejected me, at any rate. I didn't ask for a definite answer right off. But it is all right, my boy, I'm sure it is. Now, give us your hand. You've been a good friend to me. But for you I might never have got to know her."

William reached up his hand slowly and silently.

"It's often been a wonder to me," Sam said, squeezing his kinsman's hand, "that you never looked in that direction yourself; but I'm glad you never did."

"It would have been no use," William said sadly. "I'm not the kind of man to take any girl's fancy."

"Oh, that's all nonsense," Sam said gaily. "I admit that a great many girls like a fellow with a lot of dash and go, and are not particular about his past so long as he has a winning tongue and a smart exterior.

But all girls are not built that way. Why, I can fancy you being a perfect hero in some people's eyes."

"You must have a vivid imagination," William said, with a smile; and then Sam put spurs to his horse and galloped away.

William went back to his work behind his counter with a pathetic and far-away look in his eyes. He was glad when the little group of customers were served, and he was left alone for a few minutes.

He had intended going to see the Penlogans that evening, but he decided now that he would not go. While Ruth was free he had a right to look at her and admire her, but he was not sure that that right was his any longer.

He wondered if Sam noticed that he did not congratulate him. He could not get out the words somehow.

He sat down at length with his elbow on the counter, and rested his head on his hand. He began to realise that he had built more on the acquisition of Hillside Farm than he knew. He had hoped in some vague way that the farm would be a bond between him and Ruth. Well, well, it was at an end now; the one romance of his life had vanished. His unspoken love would remain unspoken.

The next day being Sunday, all the characters in this story had time for meditation. Ruth and Ralph walked to Veryan that they might worship once more in the little chapel made sacred to them by the memory of father and mother. Ruth had great difficulty in keeping back the tears. How often she had sat in that bare and comfortless pew holding her father's hand. How she missed him again. How acute and poignant was her sense of loss.

She never once looked at her brother. He sat erect and motionless by her side, but she doubted if he heard the sermon. The thought of the coming separation lay heavy upon him as it did upon her.

On their way back Ruth plucked up her courage and told Ralph of Sam Tremail's proposal the previous afternoon.

Ralph stopped short for a moment, and looked at her.

"Now I understand why you have been so absent-minded," he said at length. "I was afraid you were fretting because I was going away."

"If I fretted, I should try and not let you see," she answered. "You have enough to bear already."

"The thought of leaving you unprotected is the hardest part," he said.

"Would it be a relief to you if I accepted Sam Tremail's offer?" she questioned.

"Supposing you cared for him enough, it would be," he replied. "Sam is a good fellow by all accounts. Socially, he is much above us."

"I have nothing against him," she answered slowly, "nothing! And I am quite sure he meant all he said."

"And do you care for him?"

She shook her head slowly and smiled--

"I neither like him nor dislike him. But he offers me protection and a good home."

"To be free from worry is a great thing," he answered, looking away across the distant landscape; and then he thought of Dorothy Hamblyn, and wondered if love and romance were as much to a woman as to a man.

"Yes, freedom from worry is doubtless a great thing," she said, after a long pause, "but is it the greatest and best?"

But she waited in vain for an answer. Ralph was thinking of something else.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

A FRESH PAGE

William Menire got up early on Monday morning and helped to tidy up the shop before breakfast. He was not sorry that the working week had begun again. Work left him very little time for brooding and introspection. He had been twice to church the previous day, but he could not remember a word of the sermons. His own thoughts had drowned the voice of the preacher.

"I hope I shall have a busy week," he said to himself, as he helped his apprentice to take down the shutters. "The less I think the happier I shall be."

During breakfast the postman called. There was only one delivery per day, and during Sunday there was no delivery at all.

William glanced at the letters, but did not open any of them. One, in a blue envelope, was from Mr. Jewell, the solicitor. The postmark bore Sat.u.r.day's date.

"His news is two days late," William reflected. "We really ought to have two deliveries in a place like this."

Then he helped himself to some more bacon. His mother was not so well, and had her breakfast in bed.

No one called him from the shop, so he was allowed to finish his breakfast in peace. Then he turned his attention to his correspondence.

The blue envelope was left to the last.

"I wonder if Jewell knows the name of the purchaser?" he reflected, as he inserted a small paper-knife and cut open the envelope. He unfolded the letter slowly, then gave a sudden exclamation.

"Dear Sir,--I am advised by post this morning that your offer for Hillside Farm has been accepted, and----"

But he did not stop to read any further. Rushing into the pa.s.sage, he seized his hat, and without a word to anyone, hurried away in the direction of St. Ivel as fast as his legs could carry him.

Ralph was standing in the middle of the room measuring with his eye the capacity of an open portmanteau, when William, breathless and excited, burst in upon him. Ruth was seated at the table, the portmanteau by her side.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WILLIAM, BREATHLESS AND EXCITED, BURST IN UPON HIM."]

"I say, Ralph, we've got it," William cried excitedly, without noticing Ruth.

"Got what?" Ralph said, turning suddenly round.

"Got the farm," was the reply. "We jumped to conclusions too soon on Sat.u.r.day. Jewell says our offer has been accepted."

"Accepted!"

"Ay. Here is the letter, if you like to read it. Shut up your portmanteau, and take it out of sight. You are not going abroad yet awhile."