Cyril Sheene, as I have already said was thirty years of age and a bachelor.

He was short and fat and had fair sleek hair parted in the middle, mild blue eyes and a silly sort of expression all over his face.

In ten minutes Helen came down again in a neatly fitting grey jacket and a large straw hat with a few scarlet poppies trailing over the brim. She looked very pretty and Cyril's face shone with pleasure as he regarded her.

"Wont you come out father?" asked Helen, "I suppose we are going on the hills are'nt we Cyril?"

"I thought we might go and sit by the old castle, it is such a glorious day" responded Cyril.

"Do come father" said Helen.

"I don't think I can" said Mr. Winston "I must go to the town this morning"

"Very well" said Helen; and then while Cyril Sheene was looking for his stick, she seized an opportunity to ask her father "shall I tell Cyril about Gladys coming?" "Yes" replied Mr. Winston "but mind not a word about the safe." "Oh no" answered Helen, and then with a lively little jump she ran after Cyril who was already walking down the garden path.

It was a perfect morning, the sun shone brightly, lighting up all the scenery around; the birds were singing in the beach trees close by and the rippling of the little stream was as sweet music to the ear.

"Do you know Helen, I had an engagement in London today, but I put it off to come out with you" said Cyril, as they commenced to climb the hill.

"Oh indeed!" replied Helen "that was very kind of you."

"Oh no" answered Cyril "I would far rather be out here than in London."

"I quite agree with you there" said Helen "it would be horrid to be in smoky London today."

"Yes" said Cyril "especially without you."

"Oh rubbish" laughed Helen and she stooped down to pick a buttercup.

"Indeed it is not rubbish" replied Cyril "when a man loves, he finds it hard to be away from the object of his love."

"Oh does he?" said Helen "but then I am not the object of your love."

"Yes you are Helen," said Cyril, making an attempt to squeaze her hand.

"My dear boy" said Helen, "I do wish you would not talk such nonsense."

"Excuse me" answered Cyril, getting rather red "I am a man."

"Are you really?" said Helen carelessly.

"Now look here Helen, don't be aggrivating" said the lover "you know quite well I love you and why I have come up here."

They had reached the castle now and sat down by the ruined walls.

"Why have I come up here?" asked Cyril again.

"I suppose because it is more breezy than the town" replied Helen.

"Don't be silly Helen" said Cyril pulling up a tuft of grass.

"I am not the least silly" said Helen smiling beneath her handkerchief.

"No of course you're not darling" cried Cyril putting his arm round her waist.

"You mustn't call me "darling" Cyril" replied the girl shyly.

"Yes I must" said Cyril getting a little closer.

"Oh well for once in a way perhaps it does'nt matter" said Helen.

"Well the long and the short of it is Helen" said Cyril "I want to marry you?

"Really" said Helen "you've been long enough getting to the point."

"Have I?" said Cyril shyly "well now that I have come to it, do you love me enough to marry me?"

"Ye-es" replied Helen slowly.

"You seem rather doubtful" said Cyril.

"It's best to be so at first" replied Helen.

"Not in my case surely" answered Cyril, "oh Helen do say yes and make me a happy man."

"Yes" murmered Helen softly.

"Oh you angel" gasped Cyril "do you really mean it?"

"Of course I do" said Helen, "and I do love you Cyril."

"Thank you so much" said Cyril "well now let's hurry home and ask your father I'm in such a terrific hurry."

"Don't be absurd" said Helen "I want to stay in the sunshine."

"Anything to please you dear" said Cyril re-seating himself on the grass.

"Cyril, I think you'll make a model husband" said Helen.

"I'm sure I will" laughed Cyril and with that they got up to walk home.

At the bottom of the hill they spied Mr. Winston. He looked up as he saw them coming and waved his hand furiously.

When they met Mr. Winston he turned directly to Helen, "what do you think Helen, I've furnished the attic all by myself, the only thing Marshland did was to scrub the floor and nail up the curtains."

"How nice" said Helen "but father I've something far more important to tell you."

"Dont say it my child" said the old man "your faces tell me what it is and I give my consent on the spot."

And he plunged his stick into the ground to mark the vehemance of his words.