Page:George Weston--The apple-tree girl.djvu/170

 premonition of what her own future might be.

"We'll be there in a few minutes now," she thought; "and if he goes away this time"

Her mind began to work in desperate haste.

"I can't propose to him," she thought, a queer little pain in her breast; "and I can't lay my head on his shoulder and—and start crying! Yet I do believe he cares, or why would he have that picture on his desk?"

"Ask him!" she whispered to herself.

"I don't like to," she thought.

"Ask him!" she sternly repeated to herself. "You pride yourself on being smart, don't you? Well, then—ask him!"

She drew a full breath—such a full breath that you might have expected her to burst out in loud exclamation. "Neil!" she whispered.

The Little Rattler drowned it.