fasted. After a time he heard her voice singing, all so full of youth and untroubled by care, that his heart overflowed with tenderness towards her. He rose and stretched out his hands, as she raced with the dogs towards him. When she saw him she stopped startled, so worn and woe-begone he was, his clothes tossed and stained with his night's travel, his eyes wild and bloodshot, his hair untidy and white with dust.
"Has anything happened?" she cried "What is it?"
He caught her hand.
"Maud," he said, "you will marry me? Do not send me away unanswered again; I cannot bear it. I am afraid of losing you. I have waited all night, determined to get your answer. Speak to me."
The girl, red and agitated, drew back.
"I cannot; why do you press me so? I don't want to marry any one. I don't think I like any one well enough to marry him." She looked at his flushed face and untidy clothes: he did not look attractive.
"You like Ernest better," he said angrily; "is that it?"
