old grandmother, who had also come over, to go in the house and see her
new black silk dress. Then it was that John Mangam mumbled something
inarticulate, which Sarah translated into an offer of marriage. "Very
well, I will marry you if you want me to, Mr. Mangam," she said. "I
don't love you at all, but if you don't mind about that--"

John Mangam said nothing at all.

"If you don't mind that, I will marry you," said Sarah, and nobody would
have known her voice. It was a voice to be ashamed of, full of despair
and shame and pride, so wronged and mangled that her very spirit seemed
violated. John Mangam said nothing then. She and the man sat there quite
still, when Hyacinthus came stepping over the hedge.

Sarah found a voice when she saw him. She turned to him. "Good evening,
Mr. Ware," she said, clearly. "I would like to announce my engagement to
Mr. Mangam."

Hyacinthus stood staring at her. Sarah repeated her announcement. Then
Hyacinthus Ware disregarded John Mangam as much as if he had been a post
of the white fence that enclosed the Lynn yard. "What does it mean?" he
cried.

"You have no right to ask," said she, also disregarding John Mangam, who
sat perfectly still in his chair.

"No right to ask after--Sarah, what do you mean? Why have I no right to
ask, after what we told each other?--and I intended to see your mother
to-night. I only waited because--"