"Take keer," she said; "maybe you was predestined to be lost yer. I'm skeered to be up yer half in the dark, even with a good man."
Nevertheless, she came a little closer to him, and looked into his eyes with her arch, demure ones. The young rector suddenly kissed her.
"You've brought it on yourself, Rhoda, by looking so pretty in this stern old place of creeds and catechisms. Could you love me if I asked you?"
"You couldn't love me true, William. Your heart is in t'other old church among the bats and foxes, where Aunt Vesty sits this minute."
"No, my sorrow is there, Rhoda. I am trying to build a nest for my heart. We all must love."
"William, I don't think a young man in love can remember so much history when he's sittin' in the dark by his gal."
"Love among the ruins is always melancholy, Rhoda."
"Yes, William, and your love comes out of 'em: the ruins of your old first love. I couldn't make you happy."
"Try," said William; "my fancy wavers towards you. You are a beautiful girl."
"Yes," said Rhoda, practically, "it's time I was gittin' married. I think I'll take you on trial, and watch Aunt Vesty to see if she is jealous of me."