The lad did not again refer to his offer, and the girl, he noted with an inward sigh, had evidently forgotten all about it. She was gazing about her appreciatively. "Dicky boy," she exclaimed, "there's nothing much prettier than early morning in the country, is there, with the dew still sparkling--and a meadow lark singing," she added, for at that moment a joyous song arose from a near-by thicket.