She looked at him a moment, and in her eyes he saw a little of the same humorous twinkle he had at one time noticed in her father's eyes, and then she said:
"Suppose I should say I would not marry you until you had a home of your own to take me to; how would that seem?"
"I would not blame you," he answered soberly; "only you would have to see clouds on my face a long time, I fear."
"Oh, I haven't said so yet," she continued as she saw one gathering there then, "only I thought it might make you see father's proposition in a new light. Poor father," she went on musingly, "he wants to make us both happy, and he doesn't know how to bring it about."
"Why can't he accept my plan, then?" said Manson. "I am ready and willing."
"But I haven't said I was," responded Liddy. "I am not sure that I want people to think my husband is working for my father on the farm. Oh, I didn't mean it that way," as she saw a frown coming, "only I have some pride as well as you; that is all. Now, Charlie, please don't say another word about it to-day. Remember, we are children!"
Then she told him about her lone visit to this spot a year before, and how it affected her.
"Do you know," she explained, "I was terribly scared, and I imagined I heard ghostly footsteps all around here, and when I reached home I was as pale as a ghost myself."
"It was a foolish thing to do," he said, "and a silly promise for me to exact."
"I should have kept it just the same," was her answer, "as long as I lived."