

And dont you think he knows that? asked Biddy.

It was such a very provoking question (for it had never in the most distant manner occurred to me), that I said, snappishly,

Biddy, what do you mean?

Biddy, having rubbed the leaf to pieces between her hands,and the smell of a black-currant bush has ever since recalled to me that evening in the little garden by the side of the lane,said, Have you never considered that he may be proud?

Proud? I repeated, with disdainful emphasis.