Louder than ever sang Kitty when he presently crossed the yard again and bent over her. But a wave of colour rushed over her downcast face, and even dyed her little white neck. She could hear Olf chuckling, and presently a large finger, moist from recent ablutions, touched her chin.
“Look up a minute, my maid,” said Olf.
Kitty looked up. Olf’s sunburnt face was scarlet from the result of his late exertions, and was imperfectly dried, but it wore so frank and kindly a smile that the little maid smiled back with absolute confidence.
“So we be to start a-coortin’, be we?” inquired Olf pleasantly.
“I d’ ’low we be,” responded Kitty.
“How’s that for a beginnin’, then?” inquired Olf. And thereupon he kissed her.
At this moment Mrs. Inkpen appeared on the threshold, and soon her penetrating tones announced to the household that Olf was at last suited with a bride. A good deal of jesting and laughing ensued—not perhaps altogether good-natured, for in some unaccountable way both Mrs. Inkpen and Annie felt themselves slighted by this sudden transfer of Olf’s affection—but the newly-engaged couple submitted to their raillery with entire good humour, and presently resumed their interrupted vocations as though nothing particular had taken place.
Towards evening, however, Olf found a moment for a word with his little sweetheart.
“I be a-goin’ over to take this ’ere bit of writin’ to the bank to-morrow,” said he. “Maister says ’tis the best thing to do. He says they’ll keep it and give I money when I do want it. I were a-thinkin’, Kitty, I mid make ye a bit of a present—’tis all in the way o’ coortin’, bain’t it? I wonder now what you’d like?”
“Oh!” cried Kitty, her eyes dancing with excitement, “that’s real good o’ ye, Olf. I can’t call to mind as anybody ever gave me a present. I do want a new hat terrible bad.”