She did not speak, or move, indeed, she was so very still that he needs must bend down to see her face. Then, all at once, her lashes were lifted, her eyes looked up into his—deep and dark with passionate tenderness.
"Aunt Priscilla—was quite—right," she said, speaking in her low, thrilling voice, "I have loved you—from the—very beginning, I think!" And, with a soft, murmurous sigh, she gave herself into his embrace.
Now, far away across the meadow, Adam was plodding his homeward way, and, as he trudged, he sang to himself in a harsh, but not unmusical voice, and the words of his song were these:
"When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap
You'll bury me, diddle diddle, under the tap,
Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you why,
That I may drink, diddle diddle, when I am dry."