is an old woman there whom I love, and I have thought nothing of this
walk with the object of seeing her.' And now, slowly drawing her hand
away from him, she pointed to the farmhouse which she had left.

'Patty,' he said, after a minute's pause, during which she had looked
full into his face with all the force of her bright eyes; 'I have come
from London today, straight down here to Oxney, and from my aunt's
house close upon your footsteps after you to ask you that one question.
Do you love me?'

'What a Hercules?' she said, again laughing. 'Do you really mean that
you left London only this morning? Why, you must have been five hours in
a railway carriage and two in a post-chaise, not to talk of the walk
afterwards. You ought to take more care of yourself, Captain Broughton!'

He would have been angry with her,--for he did not like to be
quizzed,--had she not put her hand on his arm as she spoke, and the
softness of her touch had redeemed the offence of her words.

'All that have I done,' said he, 'that I may hear one word from you.'

'That any word of mine should have such potency! But, let us walk on, or
my father will take us for some of the standing stones of the moor. How
have you found your aunt? If you only knew the cares that have sat on
her dear shoulders for the last week past, in order that your high
mightyness might have a sufficiency to eat and drink in these desolate
half-starved regions.'

'She might have saved herself such anxiety. No one can care less for
such things than I do.'