as she tried in vain to catch one of the tall weeds that grew close
to the side of the road.

"Hang Mr. Falkner," returned Udell impatiently. "You know what I mean,
Clara. What's the use of you and me pretending? Haven't I told you
ever since I was ten years old that I loved you, and would have no one
else to be my wife? And haven't you always understood it that way, and
by your manners toward me given assent?"

The girl looked straight ahead at the horse's ears as she answered
slowly, "If my manner has led you to have false hopes it is very easy
to change it, and if accepting your company gives assent to all the
foolish things you may have said when you were ten years old, you'd
better seek less dangerous society."

"Forgive me dear, I spoke hastily," said George, in a much softer tone.
"But it's mighty hard to have you always just within reach and yet
always just beyond."

The sun had gone down behind the ridge. The timbers of an old mining
shaft, and the limbs and twigs of a leafless tree showed black against
the tinted sky. A faint breath of air rustled the dry leaves of the
big sycamores and paw-paw bushes, and the birds called sleepily to
each other as they settled themselves for the coming night. A
sparrow-hawk darted past on silent wings, a rabbit hopped across the
road, while far away, the evening train on the "Frisco" whistled for
a crossing; and nearer, a farm boy called to his cattle. After a long
silence, George spoke again, with a note of manly dignity in his voice,
which made his fair companion's heart beat quicker. "Clara, look at
me; I want to see your eyes," he insisted. She turned her face toward