"I think we can get out down that little gully," he answered.

Then one evening in June after tea I led John down a path beside the house to a little corner behind the garden where there was a stone wall on one side and a high fence right in front of us, and thorn bushes on the other side.

There was a little bench in the angle of the wall and the fence, and we sat down on it.
"Minnie," John said, "there's something I meant to say----" "Oh, John," I cried, and I flung my arms round his neck.

It all came with such a flood of surprise.
"All I meant, Minn----" John went on, but I checked him.
"Oh, don't, John, don't say anything more," I said.

"It's just too perfect." Then I rose and seized him by the wrist.