“If I had not a reliance on her being truthful,” said Eugene, after taking some half-dozen turns, “I should begin to think she had given me the slip for the second time. But she promised, and she is a girl of her word.”

Turning again at the water-lilies, he saw her coming, and advanced to meet her.

“I was saying to myself, Lizzie, that you were sure to come, though you were late.”

“I had to linger through the village as if I had no object before me, and I had to speak to several people in passing along, Mr. Wrayburn.”

“Are the lads of the village⁠—and the ladies⁠—such scandalmongers?” he asked, as he took her hand and drew it through his arm.

She submitted to walk slowly on, with downcast eyes. He put her hand to his lips, and she quietly drew it away.