“It would be a great honour for a girl—­just a spinner—­to be that.”

“The honour is for me.  You’ve got such tons of mind, Sabina.  You understand all the economical side, and so on.”

“A thing is only worth what it will fetch, I’m afraid.”

“That’s the point.  If you would help me, we would go into it and presently, when I’m a partner, we could bring out a scheme; and then you’d know you’d been instrumental in raising the tone of the whole works.  And probably, if we set a good example, other works would raise their tone, too, and gradually the workers would find the whole scheme of things changing, to their advantage.”

Sabina regarded this majestic vision with due reverence.  She praised his ideals and honestly believed him a hero.

They discussed the subject while the dusk came down and he prophesied great things.

“We shall live to see it,” he assured her, “and it may be largely thanks to you.  And when you have a home of your own and—­and—­”

It was then that she became conscious of his very near presence and the dying light.

“They’ll all have gone, and so must I,” she said, “and I hope you’ll thank Miss Waldron dearly for her nice party.”

“This is only the first; she’ll give dozens more now that this has been such a success.  She loves the Mill.  If you come this way I can let you out by the bottom gate—­by the bamboo garden.  You’ve bucked me up like anything—­you always do.  You’re the best thing in my life, Sabina.  Oh, if I was anything to you—­if—­but of course it’s all one way.”

His voice shook a little.  He burned to put his arms round her, and Nature shouted so loud in his humming ears that he hardly heard her answer.  For she echoed his emotion.

“What can I say to that?  You’re so kind—­you don’t know how kind.  You can’t guess what such friendship means to a girl like me.  It’s something that doesn’t come into our lives very often.  I’m only wondering what the world will be like when you’ve gone again.”

“I shan’t go—­I’m never going.  Never, Sabina.  I—­I couldn’t live without you.  Kiss me, for God’s sake.  I must kiss you—­I must—­or I shall go mad.”

His arms were round her and he felt her hot cheek against his.  They were young in love and dared not look into each other’s eyes.  But she kissed him back, and then, as he released her, she ran away, slipped through the wicket, where they stood and hastened off by the lane to Bridetown.  He glowed at her touch and panted at his triumph.  She had not rebuked him, but let him see that she loved him and kissed him for his kiss.  He did not attempt to follow her then but turned full of glory.  Here was a thing that dwarfed every interest of life and made life itself a triviality by comparison.  She loved him; he had won her; nothing else that would be, or had been, in the whole world mattered beside such a triumph.  His head had touched the stars.