"Three weeks ago; how can I possibly tell?"
"Yes, you can; for it was a fine moonlight night, and you stood there a long time."
"Under the tree, talking to somebody? What nonsense! Perhaps it wasn't me at all."
"It was, for I saw you."
"The devil you did!" muttered Tom.
"Don't be angry, only tell me the plain truth. The young woman that was with you was our Esther here, wasn't she?"
For a moment Tom looked altogether confounded. Then he tried to recover himself, and said crossly, "Well, and if it was, where's the harm? Can't a man be civil to a pretty girl without being called over the coals in this way?"
Elizabeth made no answer, at least not immediately. At last she said, in a very gentle, subdued voice,
"Tom, are you fond of Esther? You would not kiss her if you were not fond of her. Do you like her as—as you used to like me?"
And she looked right up into his eyes. Hers had no reproach in them, only a piteous entreaty, the last clinging to a hope which she knew to be false.