“No, no, oh, no,” and Katy playfully stopped his mouth with her hand.  “Of course you have some faults, but I would rather find them out myself.  I could not hear anything against you now.  I am satisfied to take you as you are.”

Wilford felt his heart throb wildly with the feeling that he was in some way deceiving the young girl; but if she would not suffer him to tell her, he was not to be censured if she remained in ignorance.  And so the golden moment fled, and when he spoke again he said:  “If Katy will not now read that leaf I offered to show her, she must not shrink back in horror if ever it does meet her eye.”

“I don’t, I promise,” Katy answered, a vague feeling of fear creeping over her as to what the reading of that mysterious page involved.  But this was soon forgotten, as Wilford, remembering his suspicions of Dr. Grant, thought to probe a little by asking if she had ever loved any one before himself?

“No, never,” she answered.  “I never dreamed of such a thing until I saw you, Mr. Cameron;” and Wilford believed the trusting girl, whose loving nature shone in every lineament of her face, upturned to receive the kisses he pressed upon it, resolving within himself to be to her what he ought to be.

“By the way,” he continued, “don’t call me Mr. Cameron again, as you did just now.  I would rather be your Wilford.  It sounds more familiar.  And still,” he added, “it may be better at present to reserve that name for the time when we are alone.  To your family I may as well remain Mr. Cameron.”

This was an after thought, suggested by his knowing how he should shiver to hear Aunt Betsy call him “Wilford,” as she surely would if Katy did.  Then he told her of his projected tour to Europe, and Katy felt her pulses quicken as she thought of London, Paris and Rome, as places which her plain country eyes might yet look upon.  But when it came to their marriage, which Wilford said must be soon—­within a few weeks—­she demurred, for this arrangement was not in accordance with her desires.  She should so much enjoy a long courtship with Wilford coming often to Silverton, and such quantities of letters passing between them as should make her the envy of all Silverton.  This was Katy’s idea, and she opposed her lover with all her strength, telling him she was so young, not eighteen till July, and she knew so little of housekeeping.  He must let her stay at home until she learned at least the art of making bread!

Poor, ignorant Katy!  Wilford could not forbear a smile as he thought how different were her views from his, and tried to explain that the art of bread-making, though very desirable in most wives, was not an essential accomplishment for his.  Servants would do that; besides he did not intend to have a house of his own at once; he should take her first to live with his mother, where she could learn what was necessary much better than there in Silverton.