"You are very unjust and very unkind, Emon, to say any such thing. I never was ashamed to be seen walking with you; and I'm certain sure the day will never come when you will give me reason to be ashamed of you, Emon-a-knock;—there now, I seldom put the two last words to your name, except when I wish to be kind. But there is a difference between shame and fear, Emon."
"Then you are afraid, Winny?"
"Yes, Emon, but it is only of my father—take that with you now, and be satisfied, but don't fret me by persevering further. Let the dog go—and good-bye."
All this time she was counting the pebbles on the road with her eyes.
"No, Winny, I'll not fret you willingly; but here or there it is all the same, and the truth must come out. Winny, you have been the woodbine that has twined itself and blossomed round my heart for many a long day. Don't wither it, Winny dear, but say I may water and nourish it with the dew [{510}] of your love;" and he would have taken her hand.
"Not here, Emon," she said, releasing it; "are you mad? Don't you see we're in sight of the houses? and gracious only knows who may be watching us! Untie your handkerchief and give be the dog. For goodness sake, Emon dear, don't come any further."
"No, Winny, I'd die before I'd fret you. Here's the dog, handkerchief and all: keep it as a token that I may hope."
"Indeed, Emon, I cannot—don't ask me."
Emon's heart fell, and he stooped to untie the handkerchief in despair, if not in chagrin, at Winny's last words.
But Bully-dhu appeared to know what his mistress ought to have done better than she did herself. It was either that, or Emon's hand shook so, that when endeavoring to untie the knot, the dog got loose, "handkerchief and all," and, turning to his mistress, began to bark and jump up on her, with joy that he had gained his liberty, and was so near home. Winny became frightened lest Bully-dhu's barks might bring notice upon them, and she endeavored to moderate his ecstacy, yet she felt a sort of secret delight that she was in for the handkerchief in spite of herself. She was determined, therefore, not to send poor Emon-a-knock away totally dejected.