He had gone, as he said, to bid
farewell to his neighbors, and was on his return home in order to take
his departure, when whom should he meet on her way to her father's
house, after having called at his father's "to see the girls," as she
said, with a slight emphasis upon the word girls, but Margaret Murray.
As was natural, and as they had often done before under similar
circumstances, each paused on meeting, but somehow on this occasion
there was visible on both sides more restraint than either had ever yet
shown. At length, the preliminary chat having ceased, a silence ensued,
which, after a little time, was broken by Margaret, who, Art could
perceive, blushed deeply as she spoke.
"So, Art, you and Frank are goin' to lave us."
"It's not with my own consint I'm goin', Margaret," he replied. As he
uttered the words he looked at her; their eyes met, but neither could
stand the glance of the other; they were instantly withdrawn.
"I'll not forget my friends, at all events," said Art; "at least,
there's some o' them I won't, nor wouldn't either, if I was to get a
million o' money for doin' so."
Margaret's face and neck, on hearing this, were in one glow of crimson,
and she kept her eyes still on the ground, but made no reply. At
length she raised them, and their glances met again; in that glance the
consciousness of his meaning was read by both, the secret was disclosed,
and their love told.
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