"Because I like you. That's a proper reason; and—maybe—she wouldn't mind."
"Well, you may. We must go, it is dinner-time."
We reached the gate and he took his horse. Both of us knew we did not accept this meeting as final, each of us was waiting for the other to speak. I knew I could outwait him.
"Little girl, we shall see each other again? May I write and ask your Grandmother or Aunt to let you come and see me?"
"Grandmother, not Aunt Jael. They might be angry though. What are you—a Saint?"
"A what?"
"A Saint."
"No, a sinner. At least I think so. Not that I know quite what you mean. Still I shall risk it."
"When?"
"One day. Don't worry; not far ahead. Now good-bye." His foot was in the stirrup.