He was standing on the high bank, and their faces were very close. Mary shuddered.
'I only frighten you,' cried Rob.
Mary raised her head, and, though her face was wet, she smiled. Her hand went out to him, but she noticed it and drew it back. Rob saw it too, but did not seek to take it. They were looking at each other bravely. His eyes proposed to her, while he could not say a word, and hers accepted him. On the hills men were shooting birds.
Rob knew that Mary loved him. An awe fell upon him. 'What am I?' he cried, and Mary put her hand in his. 'Don't, dear,' she said, as his face sank on it; and he raised his head and could not speak.
The colonel sighed, and his cheeks were red. His head sank upon his hands. He was young again, and walking down an endless lane of green with a maiden by his side, and her hand was in his. They sat down by the side of a running stream. Her fair head lay on his shoulder, and she was his wife. The colonel's lips moved as if he were saying to himself words of love, and his arms went out to her who had been dead this many a year, and a tear, perhaps the last he ever shed, ran down his cheek.
'I should not,' Mary said at last, 'have let you talk to me like this.'
Rob looked up with sudden misgiving.
'Why not?' he cried.
'Papa,' she said, 'will never consent, and I—I knew that; I have known it all along.'
'I am not going to give you up now,' Rob said passionately, and he looked as if he would run away with her at that moment.