pulse? It seemed to hasten and urge her forward, that other voice.

“I remember you,” the young man's voice was saying. “I remember you from the first time I saw you, because of your dark eyes and fair face.”

Mrs. Brangwen laughed, shy and pleased.

“You were a curly-headed little lad,” she said.

“Was I? Yes, I know. They were very proud of my curls.”

And a laugh ran to silence.

“You were a very well-mannered lad, I remember,” said her father.

“Oh! did I ask you to stay the night? I always used to ask people to stay the night. I believe it was rather trying for my mother.”