“You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. " "None whatever," replied the mob. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. ” “What is there to be feared?” he asked her quietly. He seemed to deliberate. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. “Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year.
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