"I can't," said Jack Loughead gravely, "for it was the kindest thing I ever supposed one could say to another—and then—I from that time—loved you, Miss Pepper!"
Polly Pepper stopped short in the lane. "Oh, don't—don't!" she begged, and covered her face with her hands.
"I must tell you," said Jack Loughead, still gravely, and standing quietly to look at her; "and I have come to ask you to marry me."
"Oh!" cried Polly again, and not daring to look at him, "I am so sorry," she cried, "I wouldn't hurt you for all the world, Mr. Loughead."
"I know it," he said, waiting for her to finish.
"For—for, I do like you so much—so very much," cried poor Polly, wishing the birds wouldn't sing so loud. "You have taught me so much, oh, so much, I can't tell you, Mr. Loughead, about being true and noble, and"—
He waited patiently till she began again.
"But I couldn't marry you; oh, I couldn't," here Polly forced herself to look at him, but her head went down again at sight of his face.
"You sha'n't be troubled," said Jack Loughead gently, "I'll take myself out of the way, and make all excuses at the house."
[Illustration: "MY! WHAT A SIGHT OF FISH! EXCLAIMED MRS. HIGBY, DROPPING
TO HER KNEES BESIDE THE BASKET.]