She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. But, when? When do they go?’ ‘Today, miss. ” Anna’s eyes opened a little wider, but she said nothing. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently.
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