"No, my dear," answered Mrs. Trapes, her harsh tones wonderfully soft,
"I don't have to--I guessed days ago. D' ye love him, Hermy?"

"Love him!" repeated Hermione, and said no more, nor did she lift her
bowed head, but feeling the quick, strong pressure of those soft,
embracing arms, the quiver of that girlish body, Mrs. Trapes smiled,
and stooping, kissed Hermione's shining hair.

"When did he speak, my dear?"

"Last Monday, Ann."

"Did he say--much?"

"He asked me to--marry him."

"Spoke of marriage, eh? Did he happen t' mention th' word--wife?"

"Oh, many times, Ann."

"Good f'r him! An' when's it t' be?"

"Oh, Ann, dear, I--I'm afraid it's--to-night!"

"T'night? My land, he's sure some hasty!"

"And so--so masterful, Ann!"

"Well, y' sure need a master. But t'night--land sakes!"