Rose did not laugh, but her eyes were brimful of fun, and her lips dimpled threateningly.
"Don't—don't cry; it 'ud break my heart. I aint downright engaged, nor nothing, and I waited to see if you'd give me up afore that—but—but if you'd just as lives, 'thar is as good fish in the sea as ever come out,' you know; still, as I said, if you didn't seem to mind it, I—I—"
Rose shook with the rush of laughter that was forbidden to her lips, but she felt a sort of respect for the honest purpose which had brought the youth to her presence, and answered him with gentle kindness:
"Have no trouble about me, Mr. Hutchins—we were only children then."
"True enough—so we were."
"You were very kind to us, and I can never forget it."
"Oh, don't—don't, Miss Rose—you make me feel what a scoundrel I was ever to think of anybody else."
"Ah, but it was impossible to help it."
"Do you think so now—really?"
"Indeed I do."