Thrice a day I will come and stop--' 'Nay, Master Ridd, I would never show thee--never, because of peril--only that so happens it thou hast found the way already.' And she smiled with a light that made me care to cry out for no other way, except to her dear heart.

But only to myself I cried for anything at all, having enough of man in me to be bashful with young maidens.

So I touched her white hand softly when she gave it to me, and (fancying that she had sighed) was touched at heart about it, and resolved to yield her all my goods, although my mother was living; and then grew angry with myself (for a mile or more of walking) to think she would condescend so; and then, for the rest of the homeward road, was mad with every man in the world who would dare to think of having her..