"Perhaps she has a companion," said Tom.
"No; she says she prefers going alone; it will not be for long, however; in another month she will, I hope, be your betrothed."
Tom felt a pang of vexation run through him. He was ready to explode, but succeeded in showing a good exterior and said jokingly: "Suppose she came accompanied by some young fellow."
"She never would dare to do so."
"I would not say so if I were you, uncle; it's not a good sign when a young girl is always out like that. Haven't you noticed that she very often goes out in the evening lately?"
The old man's suspicions were beginning to be aroused. "I had not even thought of it," he said "but, indeed, it's as you say; she has been going out often lately."
"I hope there is no one supplanting me," said his nephew.
"You need not fear, Tom—pass me the mug."
They both drank out of the same coarse vessel, and Tom, who was warming up, continued: "I have strange presentiments, uncle; when I went to school, I remember having read in an English book about, 'Coming events casting their shadows before.' Now, just as I met Miss Rougeant this evening, I saw a cat cross the road. Now, you know as well as I do, that it means discord betwixt her and me."
"This sounds very strange," said the farmer, "but I thought you told me you had not seen her."