"Oh," said Wenna, "you propose to come with me? Then it is you who are afraid to go down by yourself? Oh, Mabyn!"
"Never mind, Wenna: let's go down through the wood, just for fun."
So the two sisters set out arm in arm, and through some spirit of mischief Wenna would not speak a word. Mabyn was gradually overawed by the silence, the night, the loneliness of the road, and the solemn presence of the great living vault above them. Moreover, before getting into the wood they had to skirt a curious little dingle, in the hollow of which are both a church and churchyard. Many a time the sisters had come up to this romantic dell in the spring-time to gather splendid primroses, sweet violets, the yellow celandine, and other wild flowers that grew luxuriantly on its steep banks; and very pretty the old church looked then, with the clear sunshine of April streaming down through the scantily-leaved trees into this sequestered spot. Now the deep hole was black as night, and they could only make out a bit of the spire of the church as it appeared against the dark sky. Nay, was there not a sound among the fallen leaves and underwood down there in the direction of the unseen graves?
"Some cow has strayed in there, I believe," said Mabyn in a somewhat low voice, and she walked rather quickly until they got past the place and out on to the hill over the wooded valley.
"Now," said Wenna cheerfully, not wishing to have Mabyn put in a real fright, "as we go down I am going to tell you something, Mabyn. How would you like to have to prepare for a wedding in a fortnight?"
"Not at all," said Mabyn promptly, even fiercely.
"Not if it was your own?"
"No. Why, the insult of such a request!"
According to Mabyn's way of thinking it was an insult to ask a girl to marry you in a fortnight, but none to insist on her marrying you the day after to-morrow.
"You think that a girl could fairly plead that as an excuse—the mere time to get one's dresses and things ready?"