"That is candid of you."
The arrow misses its mark.
"But it may be," proceeds the young fellow, "that I have, for the reason that I love her."
His voice trembles, but his earnestness imparts power to it.
"I am obliged to you for your confidence," observes Mr. Temple, watching for Nelly Marston as he speaks, "unsolicited as it is. A pretty young lady generally inspires that passion in many breasts."
"But not in all alike," quickly retorts the gardener's son.
"That is fair philosophy. Proceed."
"You speak lightly, sir, while I am serous. It stands in this way, sir. People are beginning to talk----"
"People will talk," interrupts Mr. Temple, with malicious relish; "as in the present instance."
"And Miss Marston's name and yours have got mixed up together in a manner it would grieve her to know."