her head with a show of anger in her eyes. "This is no time to jest." I
suppose I could not have convinced her that I was not jesting.

"At first we did not speak to each other even to say good day, but stood
by the well in silence for a very long time. The village people were
staring at us, and I felt that every window had a hundred faces in it, and
every face a hundred eyes."

"You imagined that," said I, "because of your guilty conscience."

"Perhaps so. But it seemed to me that we stood by the well in silence a
very long time. You see, Cousin Malcolm, I was not the one who should
speak first. I had done more than my part in going to meet him."

"Decidedly so," said I, interrupting the interesting narrative.

"When I could bear the gaze of the villagers no longer, I drew up my reins
and started to leave The Open by the north road. After Dolcy had climbed
halfway up North Hill, which as you know overlooks the village, I turned
my head and saw Sir John still standing by the well, resting his hand upon
his horse's mane. He was watching me. I grew angry, and determined that he
should follow me, even if I had to call him. So I drew Dolcy to a stand.
Was not that bold in me? But wait, there is worse to come, Malcolm. He did
not move, but stood like a statue looking toward me. I knew that he wanted
to come, so after a little time I--I beckoned to him and--and then he came
like a thunderbolt. Oh! it was delicious. I put Dolcy to a gallop, for
when he started toward me I was frightened. Besides I did not want him to
overtake me till we were out of the village. But when once he had started,
he did not wait. He was as swift now as he had been slow, and my heart
throbbed and triumphed because of his eagerness, though in truth I was