tall fellow of a cousin as looks black at me, for if I'm not
mista'en he's a notion of being sweet on yo' hisself.'

'Not he,' said Sylvia, with some contempt in her tone. 'He's so full
o' business and t' shop, and o' makin' money, and gettin' wealth.'

'Ay, ay; but perhaps when he gets a rich man he'll come and ask my
Sylvia to be his wife, and what will she say then?'

'He'll niver come asking such a foolish question,' said she, a
little impatiently; 'he knows what answer he'd get if he did.'

Kinraid said, almost as if to himself, 'Yo'r mother favours him
though.' But she, weary of a subject she cared nothing about, and
eager to identify herself with all his interests, asked him about
his plans almost at the same time that he said these last words; and
they went on as lovers do, intermixing a great many tender
expressions with a very little conversation relating to facts.

Dolly Reid came in, and went out softly, unheeded by them. But
Sylvia's listening ears caught her father's voice, as he and Kester
returned homewards from their day's work in the plough-field; and
she started away, and fled upstairs in shy affright, leaving Charley
to explain his presence in the solitary kitchen to her father.

He came in, not seeing that any one was there at first; for they had
never thought of lighting a candle. Kinraid stepped forward into the
firelight; his purpose of concealing what he had said to Sylvia
quite melted away by the cordial welcome her father gave him the
instant that he recognized him.