I, too, have imagination." For the moment there was a majesty about him that was foreign to his usual bearing.

Andrew was touched, and gripped his hand.
"Rather," he cried, "let the girl we both love remain with you.

She will be here waiting for me--should I return." "More likely," said the minister, "she will be at the bank." The banker was unmarried, and had once in February and again in June seen Clarrie home from the Dorcas Society.

The town talked about it.
Strictly speaking, gentlemen should not attend these meetings; but in Wheens there was not much difference between the men and the women.
That night, as Clarrie bade Andrew farewell at the garden gate, he took her head in his hands and asked what this talk about the banker meant.
It was no ignoble curiosity that prompted him.

He would rather have got engaged to her there and then than have left without feeling sure of her.
His sweetheart looked her reply straight his eyes.
"Andrew!" was all she said.
It was sufficient.