Often and often since, she had said to herself that, of course, Cousin Godfrey was mistaken and quite wrong in not liking Tom; she was sure he would like him if he knew him as she did!--and yet to act against his opinion, and that never uttered to herself, cost her this sharp pang, and not a few that followed! To soften it for the moment, however, came the vaguely, sadly reproachful feeling, that, seeing they were about to send her out into the world to earn her bread, they had no more any right to make such demands upon her loyalty to them as should exclude the closest and only satisfying friend she had--one who would not turn her away, but wanted to have her for ever.

That Godfrey knew nothing of his mother's design, she did not once suspect.
"Now, Tom, you have seen me, and spoken to me, and I must go," said Letty.
"O Letty!" cried Tom, reproachfully, "now when we understand each other?
Would you leave me in the very moment of my supremest bliss?
That would be mockery, Letty! That is the way my dreams serve me always.

But, surely, you are no dream! Perhaps I _am_ dreaming, and shall wake to find myself alone! I never was so happy in my life, and you want to leave me all alone in the midnight, with the moon to comfort me! Do as you like, Letty!--I won't leave the place till the morning.

I will go back to the rick-yard, and lie under your window all night." The idea of Tom, out on the cold ground, while she was warm in bed, was too much for Letty's childish heart.

Had she known Tom better, she would not have been afraid: she would have known that he would indeed do as he had said--so far; that he would lie down under her window, and there remain, even to the very moment when he began to feel miserable, and a moment longer, but not more than two; that then he would get up, and, with a last look, start home for bed.
"I will stop a little while, Tom," she offered, "if you will promise to go home as soon as I leave you." Tom promised.
They went wandering along the farm-lanes, and Tom made love to her, as the phrase is--in his case, alas! a phrase only too correct.