‘Love is no Cupid — he is a giant,’ she said, her voice trembling with emotion as mine had trembled.  ’I tried to forget and he crushed me under his feet as if to punish me.

She was near to crying now, but she shut her lips firmly and kept back the tears.  God grant me I may never forget the look in her eyes that moment.  She came closer to me.  Our lips touched; my arms held her tightly.

‘I have waited long for this,’ I said — ’the happiest moment of my life!  I thought I had lost you.

‘What a foolish man,’ she whispered.  ’I have loved you for years and years and you — you could not see it, I believe now.’

She hesitated a moment, her eyes so close to my cheek I could feel the beat of their long lashes.

‘That God made you for me,’ she added.

‘Love is God’s helper,’ I said.  ’He made us for each other.

‘I thank Him for it — I do love you so,’ she whispered.

The rest is the old, old story.  They that have not lived it are to be pitied.

When we sat down at length she told me what I had long suspected, that Mrs Fuller wished her to marry young Livingstone.

‘But for Uncle Eb,’ she added, ’I think I should have done so — for I had given up all hope of you.’

‘Good old Uncle Eb!’ I said.  ’Let’s go and tell him.

He was sound asleep when we entered his room but woke as I lit the gas.

‘What’s the matter?’ he whispered, lifting his head.

‘Congratulate us,’ I said.  ’We’re engaged.

‘Hey ye conquered her?’ he enquired smiling.

‘Love has conquered us both,’ I said.

‘Wall, I swan! is thet so?’ he answered.  ’Guess I won’t fool away any more time here in bed.  If you childen’ll go in t’other room I’ll slip into my trousers an’ then ye’ll hear me talk some conversation.

‘Beats the world!’ he continued, coming in presently, buttoning his suspenders.  ‘I thought mos’ likely ye’d hitch up t’gether sometime.  ’Tain’t often ye can find a pair s’well matched.  The same style an gaited jest about alike.  When ye goin’ t’ git married?

‘She hasn’t named the day,’ I said.

‘Sooner the better,’ said Uncle Eb as he drew on his coat and sat down.  ’Used if be so t’when a young couple hed set up ’n held each other’s han’s a few nights they was ready fer the minister.  Wish’t ye could fix it fer ’bout Crissmus time, by jingo!  They’s other things goin’if happen then.’ s pose yer s’happy now ye can stan’ a little bad news.  I’ve got if tell ye — David’s been losin’ money.  Hain’t never wrote ye ’bout it — not a word — ’cause I didn’t know how ‘twas comin’ out.

‘How did he lose it?’ I enquired.