"Dear me! To think of my forgetting it!" said the philosopher,
shamefacedly.

"She told me to say good-bye to you for her."

"She's very kind. I can't forgive myself."

His hostess looked at him for a moment; then she sighed, and smiled,
and sighed again.

"Have you everything you want?" she asked.

"Everything, thank you," said he, sitting down opposite the cheese,
and propping his book (he thought he would just run through the
last chapter again) against the loaf; "everything in the world that
I want, thanks."

His hostess did not tell him that the girl had come in from the
apple orchard and run hastily upstairs, lest her friend should see
what her friend did see in her eyes. So that he had no suspicion
at all that he had received an offer of marriage--and refused it.
And he did not refer to anything of that sort when he paused once
in his reading and exclaimed:

"I'm really sorry I missed Miss May. That was an interesting case
of hers. But I gave the right answer; the girl ought to marry A."

And so the girl did.