Louis threw out his arms with a gesture of impatience. "I had rather run away with you at once," he said. "Let us elope."
"Mr. Roscoria, what a very rash idea!"
"Should you refuse, if I asked you?"
"I hope so," said Lyndis, thereby giving her lover much hope. "And now, as I am really angry with you, you may go."
"Yes, goddess; but I will hear thee again on this matter. May I——"
Lyndis did not expressly say he might not, so he did—that is to say, he kissed the golden head that was resting on his rough coat, from whence it was raised with tumbled bright hair spread abroad like the rays of the sun.
Tregurtha and Rosetta meantime had been looking over a hedge, commenting on scenery, the weather, and the crops. Rosetta was a born farmer. The sailor asked her tentatively:
"Did you agree to this plan of marrying my friend Roscoria?"
"I did," said the maiden, brightly.