She had promised herself more fully to Philip the night before than she had told Kester; and, with some pains and much patience, her cousin, her lover, alas! her future husband, had made the fact clear to the bewildered mind of her poor mother, who had all day long shown that her mind and heart were full of the subject, and that the contemplation of it was giving her as much peace as she could ever know.

And now Kester's words came to call up echoes in the poor girl's heart.

Just as she was in this miserable state, wishing that the grave lay open before her, and that she could lie down, and be covered up by the soft green turf from all the bitter sorrows and carking cares and weary bewilderments of this life; wishing that her father was alive, that Charley was once more here; that she had not repeated the solemn words by which she had promised herself to Philip only the very evening before, she heard a soft, low whistle, and, looking round unconsciously, there was her lover and affianced husband, leaning on the gate, and gazing into the field with passionate eyes, devouring the fair face and figure of her, his future wife.
'Oh, Kester,' said she once more, 'what mun I do?
I'm pledged to him as strong as words can make it, and mother blessed us both wi' more sense than she's had for weeks.

Kester, man, speak! Shall I go and break it all off ?--say.' 'Nay, it's noane for me t' say; m'appen thou's gone too far.

Them above only knows what is best.' Again that long, cooing whistle.