'I am locked out,' said Winifred, in explanation of her moonlight
ramble. 'My father went off to Dullingham with the key in his pocket
while I and Snap were in the garden, so we have to wait till his
return. Good-night, sir,' and she gave me her hand. I seemed to feel
the fingers around my heart, and knew that I was turning very pale.
'The same little sunburnt fingers.' I said, as I retained them in
mine 'just the same, Winifred! But it's not "good-night" yet. No, no,
it's not good-night yet; and, Winifred if you dare to call me "sir"
again, I declare I'll kiss you where you stand. I will, Winifred.
I'll put my arms right round that slender waist and kiss you under
that moon, as sure as you stand on these sands.'

'Then I will not call you "sir."' said Winifred laughingly.
'Certainly I will not call you "sir," if that is to be the penalty.'

'Winifred,' said I, 'the last time that I remember to have heard you
say "certainly" was on this very spot. You then pronounced it
"certumly," and that was when I asked you if I might be your lover.
You said "certumly" on that occasion without the least hesitation.'

Winifred, as I could see, even by the moonlight, was blushing. 'Ah,
those childish days!' she said. 'How delightful they were, sir!'

'"Sir" again!' said I. 'Now, Winifred, I am going to execute my
threat--I am indeed.'

She put up her hands before her face and said,

'Oh, don't! please don't.'