"Oh, indeed, sir!" she mocked, secure behind her leafy screen,

nodding her head at his unconscious back; "so you've actually

thought better of it, have you?"

Here Barnabas turned.

"Really, sir, you will even trouble to come all the way back, will

you, just to learn her name--or, perhaps to--indeed, what

condescension. But, dear sir, you're too late; oh, yes, indeed you

are! 'for he who will not when he may, when he will he shall have nay.'

I grieve to say you are too late--quite too late! Good morning,

Master Shill-I-shall-I." And with the word she turned, then hastily

drew a certain lace handkerchief from her bosom, and set it very

cleverly among the thorns of a bramble, and so sped away among the

leaves.




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