"I thought I would wait just a little longer. Because,—because,—because—. Oh, Hugh, how cross you were to me afterwards when you came down to Nuncombe and would hardly speak to me!"
"And why didn't I speak to you?"
"I don't know. Because you were cross, and surly, and thinking of nothing but your tobacco, I believe. Do you remember how we walked to Niddon, and you hadn't a word for anybody?"
"I remember I wanted you to go down to the river with me, and you wouldn't go."
"You asked me only once, and I did so long to go with you. Do you remember the rocks in the river? I remember the place as though I saw it now; and how I longed to jump from one stone to another. Hugh, if we are ever married, you must take me there, and let me jump on those stones."
"You pretended that you could not think of wetting your feet."
"Of course I pretended,—because you were so cross, and so cold. Oh, dear! I wonder whether you will ever know it all."
"Don't I know it all now?"
"I suppose you do, nearly. There is mighty little of a secret in it, and it is the same thing that is going on always. Only it seems so strange to me that I should ever have loved any one so dearly,—and that for next to no reason at all. You never made yourself very charming that I know of;—did you?"
"I did my best. It wasn't much, I dare say."