"Then what will happen at the mills?"
"Oh, some one else will be found—the new ideas are stirring everywhere. And if you'll only come back here, and help my successor——"
"Do you think they are likely to choose any one else with your ideas?" she interposed with unexpected acuteness; and after a short silence he answered: "Not immediately, perhaps; but in time—in time there will be improvements."
"As if the poor people could wait! Oh, it's cruel, cruel of you to go!"
Her voice broke in a throb of entreaty that went to his inmost fibres.
"You don't understand. It's impossible in the present state of things that I should do any good by staying."
"Then you refuse? Even if I were to insist on their asking you to stay, you would still refuse?" she persisted.
"Yes—I should still refuse."
She made no answer, but moved a few steps nearer to the edge of the wood. The meadow was just below them now, and the sleigh in plain sight on the height beyond. Their steps made no sound on the sodden drifts underfoot, and in the silence he thought he heard a catch in her breathing. It was enough to make the brimming moment overflow. He stood still before her and bent his head to hers.
"Bessy!" he said, with sudden vehemence.