"'Look'st thou at the stars? If I were Heaven, With all the eyes of Heaven would I look down on thee.'
I don't know what made me think of that. Perhaps because I wish I had more eyes with which to look at you."
"Would you be the giant of old who had an eye in the back of his head?" said she. "And after all, I think your verse a little rude. To look down on me!" She stood back from him, and glanced at him in the prettiest way. Happiness was developing in her a tender and joyous coquetry. "On me!"
"Do you know," said Dillwyn, a little sadly, "I have often thought what presumption it was on my part to dream of gaining you."
"Oh now, now!" cried she, in a little expostulatory way. She ran back to him and held out her hands. Her face expressed the greatest penitence. "Presumption—what a word! Do you know, Jack, I shall be thankful to my dying hour that you loved me. Oh, you must go!" said she, raising her head. As she did so she started.
"What was that? Jack, didn't you hear something?"
"Hear something? No," said Dillwyn. He looked towards the house.
"No, no! In there"—pointing to the bushes behind them. She spoke in a low whisper, and he could feel that she was trembling.
"In there? Who could be there?"
"I don't know—perhaps—-"