"Don't, don't!" she said, with a shudder. "I can't explain it, but,
somehow, when you look and speak that way--"

"I can't help it," he blurted out, warmly. "You make my very brain
whirl. I can hardly look at you. It is all I can do to keep from
snatching you to my arms again, even here where any one could see us.
Say, darling, do me a favor. Don't go to church to-day. Make some
excuse. Stay at home with me and let the others go. I have a thousand
things to tell you."

The slight, shifting frown on her face steadied itself. She gave him a
swift glance, then avoided his amorous eyes.

"Oh, I couldn't do that, _even for you_," she faltered. "They have
asked me to sing in a quartette. That is why I put on this dress. The
other girls are going to fix up a little."

"Then you won't oblige me?"

"I can't. I simply can't. It would be deceitful, and I am not a bit
like that. I'm just what I am, open and aboveboard in everything. And
that is why I know--_feel_ that I did not act right last night."

"There you go again," he cried, lightly, forcing a laugh. "When will
you ever drop that? You say you love me, and I _know_ I love you, so
why should you _not_ let me kiss you? I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll
order a horse and buggy sent out from Ridgeville this afternoon, and
we will take a nice drive over the mountain."

"To-day?--not to-day," Dolly said, firmly. "There is to be an