parents; but for various reasons he was not sorry that circumstances had given him the chance of seeing her alone, and obtaining her promise to marry him without being obliged to tell either her father or her mother at present.  ‘I ha’ spent my money pretty free,’ he said, ’and I’ve ne’er a penny to the fore, and yo’r parents may look for something better for yo’, my pretty:  but when I come back fro’ this voyage I shall stand a chance of having a share i’ th’ Urania, and may-be I shall be mate as well as specksioneer; and I can get a matter of from seventy to ninety pound a voyage, let alone th’ half-guineas for every whale I strike, and six shilling a gallon on th’ oil; and if I keep steady wi’ Forbes and Company, they’ll make me master i’ time, for I’ve had good schooling, and can work a ship as well as any man; an’ I leave yo’ wi’ yo’r parents, or take a cottage for yo’ nigh at hand; but I would like to have something to the fore, and that I shall have, please God, when we come back i’ th’ autumn.  I shall go to sea happy, now, thinking I’ve yo’r word.  Yo’re not one to go back from it, I’m sure, else it’s a long time to leave such a pretty girl as yo’, and ne’er a chance of a letter reaching yo’ just to tell yo’ once again how I love yo’, and to bid yo’ not forget yo’r true love.’

‘There’ll be no need o’ that,’ murmured Sylvia.

She was too dizzy with happiness to have attended much to his details of his worldly prospects, but at the sound of his tender words of love her eager heart was ready to listen.

‘I don’t know,’ said he, wanting to draw her out into more confession of her feelings.  ’There’s many a one ready to come after yo’; and yo’r mother is not o’er captivated wi’ me; and there’s yon tall fellow of a cousin as looks black at me, for if I’m not mista’en he’s a notion of being sweet on yo’ hisself.’

‘Not he,’ said Sylvia, with some contempt in her tone.  ’He’s so full o’ business and t’ shop, and o’ makin’ money, and gettin’ wealth.’

’Ay, ay; but perhaps when he gets a rich man he’ll come and ask my Sylvia to be his wife, and what will she say then?’

‘He’ll niver come asking such a foolish question,’ said she, a little impatiently; ‘he knows what answer he’d get if he did.’

Kinraid said, almost as if to himself, ’Yo’r mother favours him though.’  But she, weary of a subject she cared nothing about, and eager to identify herself with all his interests, asked him about his plans almost at the same time that he said these last words; and they went on as lovers do, intermixing a great many tender expressions with a very little conversation relating to facts.

Dolly Reid came in, and went out softly, unheeded by them.  But Sylvia’s listening ears caught her father’s voice, as he and Kester returned homewards from their day’s work in the plough-field; and she started away, and fled upstairs in shy affright, leaving Charley to explain his presence in the solitary kitchen to her father.