As no answer came, and as their eyes had nothing else to do, they both contemplated the picture presented in front, and noticed how the farmer's wife sat flattened between the two men, who bulged over each end of the seat to give her room, till they almost sat upon their respective wheels; and they looked too at the farmer's wife's silk mantle, inflating itself between her shoulders like a balloon and sinking flat again, at each jog of the horse.  The farmer's wife, feeling their eyes sticking into her back, looked over her shoulder.  Dick dropped ten yards further behind.

"Fancy, why can't you answer?" he repeated.

"Because how much you are to me depends upon how much I am to you," said she in low tones.

"Everything," said Dick, putting his hand towards hers, and casting emphatic eyes upon the upper curve of her cheek.

"Now, Richard Dewy, no touching me!  I didn't say in what way your thinking of me affected the question--perhaps inversely, don't you see?  No touching, sir!  Look; goodness me, don't, Dick!"