He laughed at the extent of her help, but, seeing how bright and
beautiful her face looked in the moonlight, how round and supple her
form, contrasted with his own rough proportions, he added, in a lower
tone,--

"Never mind the work, Sally--I only wanted to have you with me."

Sally was silent, but happy, and Mark proceeded to overthrow the next
shock.

When they were again seated face to face, he no longer bent so steadily
over the stalks, but lifted his head now and then to watch the gloss of
the moon on her black hair, and the mellow gleam that seemed to slide
along her cheek and chin, playing with the shadows, as she moved.

"Sally!" he said at last, "you must ha' seen, over and over ag'in, that
I like to be with you. Do you care for me, at all?"

She flushed and trembled a little as she answered,--"Yes, Mark, I do."

He husked half a dozen ears rapidly, then looked up again and asked,--

"Do you care enough for me, Sally, to take me for good and all? I can't
put it into fine speech, but I love you dearly and honestly; will you
marry me?"

Sally bent down her head, so choked with the long-delayed joy that she
found it impossible to speak. Mark finished the few remaining stalks and
put them behind him; he sat upon the ground at her feet.