Mrs.Hall went as far as the door to light him down the slope.

On the doorstep he said frankly--'I came to ask your daughter to marry me; chose the night and everything, with an eye to a favourable answer.

But she won't.' 'Then she's a very ungrateful girl!' emphatically said Mrs.Hall.
Darton paused to shape his sentence, and asked, 'I--I suppose there's nobody else more favoured ?' 'I can't say that there is, or that there isn't,' answered Mrs.Hall.
'She's private in some things.

I'm on your side, however, Mr.Darton, and I'll talk to her.' 'Thank 'ee, thank 'ee!' said the farmer in a gayer accent; and with this assurance the not very satisfactory visit came to an end.

Darton descended the roots of the sycamore, the light was withdrawn, and the door closed.