“Theer let it bide, sweetheart, for our childer’s childer to see when we’m sleepin’ down-along.”
“Go away with ’e, Jan!”
Presently they moved onward to their homes.
“Braave news for my mother,” said the girl.
“Braaver news for mine,” declared John.
The sun had set and the twilight was in Sarah’s grey eyes as she lifted them to him. Together they passed upward, very slowly, with her head against his shoulder and his arm round her.
“’Tis a pleasant thing seemin’ly to have a huge gert man to love ’e.”
“Ess fay, my bird! You’ll live to knaw it, please God.”
From their lofty standpoint spread a wide scene of waning light on a fading world; and above the eastern horizon, through the last roses of the afterglow, imperceptibly stole a round shield of pale pearl. Aloft the sleeping wind-clouds lost their light and turned slate-grey as the misty phantom of the moon gathered brightness, and the western nimbus of sunset faded away.
Then John took his lips from his love’s and gave her the sheaf of gleaned corn and left her at her father’s door, while he tramped on up the hill.