"You may think well of Miss Anstey without making a mistake. Nevertheless, she is a very dangerous character."
"To you, Winn?" asked Mr. Marsden, quickly; but the merry laugh of his friend reassured him at once.
"No, my dear fellow. There is not the slightest fear of our becoming rivals, though the young lady is in herself worth winning. But I would not advise you to try to win her, because I fear she would not meet Mrs. Marsden's views as to a daughter-in-law."
"That is my trouble, Winn. If I stood alone, I would not hesitate. Even now I can hardly feel that I ought to stifle the longings of my own heart, when there is nothing wrong in connection with them. I would speak to Miss Anstey to-morrow, only I know the dear old mother would be heart-broken if she were not at least consulted before a decisive step was taken. She is from home just now. We shall not meet for a week, and Miss Anstey may go from Hailsby before I can see my mother and return. I cannot say to her, 'Please, will you stay here until I go and tell my mother that I have seen a girl I should like to make my wife, and then, if she is willing, I will come back.'"
Mr. Winn laughed heartily. "I should think not, indeed," he said. "And if you ask my advice, I should say, Better run away and do not come back at all."
At this moment the friends rose, left the porch, and strolled away out of hearing.
It seemed dreadfully mean to lie and hear all this; but what could I do? The house was a quaint rambling old place, once inhabited by the owner of the estate, but now given over to the farm. It had ins and outs, and I feel sure the two gentlemen were unaware as to which was my room, as it lay about as far as possible from their chambers. I had never seen them in the porch before, and could only suppose that they had been tempted to linger by the extreme beauty of the night, and without dreaming that amid the stillness the sound of their voices might be borne upwards to other ears.
I hated to play the listener, though what I heard made my heart throb wildly and my face glow with gladness. Had the speakers been females, or even older men, I should have warned them that they were within hearing. As it was, I acted like a coward. I feared that some one might hear me speak to these young men, and place a wrong construction on the nightly communication, for all the other inmates were in bed. So I failed to do right, lest I should be suspected of doing wrong. Afterwards, I thought that I might have closed the window with noise enough to warn them that some one was near, but without letting them know who it was. I took myself to task rather severely about this, but conscience cleared me so far. I really had not thought of the window until too late.
That fair night was the least satisfactory I spent at Roundtree Farm, so far as sleep went. I passed the hours in a whirl of conflicting emotions. I was thankful for the good opinion of two such men as Mr. Marsden and Mr. Winn. Their words proved that they had judged me fairly. But my tell-tale heart was at first in a flutter of joy at the thought that the one who had stolen into it and taken the dearest place, had also given me the same in his.
The joy, however, did not continue unalloyed. Much of it could never leave me. If I were never to see him again, if I were to spend my future life in loneliness, there would still be this memory; a good man thought me worthy of his love, and would have made me his wife, if he could.