"God forgive me! I meant at first to say nothing."
"Only at first," said Ruth, gently; and they walked on in silence.
The sun had set. A slender moon had climbed unnoticed into the southern sky amid the shafts of paling fire which stretched out across the whole heaven from the burning fiery furnace in the west. Across the gray dim fields voices were calling the cattle home.
Charles spoke again at last in his usual tone.
"You quite understand, Ruth, though I have not mentioned it so far, that you are engaged to marry me?"
"I do. I will make a note of it if you wish."
"It is unnecessary. I shall be happy, when I am at leisure to remind you myself. Indeed, I may say I shall make a point of doing so. There does not happen to be any one else whom you feel it would be your duty to marry?"
"I can't think of any one at the moment. Charles, you never could have believed I would marry him, after all?"
"Indeed, I did believe it. Don't I know the stubbornness of your heart? You see, you are but young, and I make excuses for you; but, after you have been the object of my special and judicious training for a few years, I quite hope your judgment may improve considerably."
"I trust it will, as I see from your remarks—it will certainly be all we shall have to guide us both."