“Oh! I thought you had no secrets from one another.”
“I don't know that we ever had—except things in his books that he said were God's secrets, which I should understand some day, for God was telling them as fast as He could get his children to understand them.”
“I see,” sighed Alexa; “you were made for each other. But this is my secret, and I have the right to tell it. He kept it for me to tell you. I thought all the time you knew it.”
“I don't want to know anything Andrew would not tell me.”
“He thought it was my secret, you see, not his, and that was why he did not tell you.”
“Of coarse, ma'am. Andrew always did what was right.”
“Well, then, Dawtie—I offered to be his wife if he would have me.”
“And what did he say?” asked Dawtie, with the composure of one listening to a story learned from a book.
“He told me he couldn't. But I'm not sure what he said. The words went away.”
“When was it he asked you?” said Dawtie, sunk in thought.