A shadow of disappointment came into her face, and she turned away.
The boy was embarrassed. He had taken a misstep. She turned
impatiently and gave him a glance from head to foot.
"But you're lovely enough now," he ventured again.
There was a quick movement of her lips, a flicker of contempt in
her eyes. It seemed an age before she answered him.
"Flatterer!" said she, presently, looking down and jabbing the
fence top with a pin. "I suppose you think I'm very homely."
"I always mean what I say."
"Then you'd better be careful--you might spoil me." She smiled
faintly, turning her face away.
"How so?"
"Don't you know," said she, seriously, "that when a girl thinks
she's beautiful she's spoiled?"
Their blushes had begun to fade; their words to come easier.
"Guess I'm spoilt, too," said the boy, looking away thoughtfully.
"I don't know what to say--but sometime, maybe, you will know me
better and believe me." He spoke with some dignity.
"I know who you are," the girl answered, coming nearer and looking
into his eyes. "You're the boy that came out of the woods in a
little red sleigh."
"How did you know?" Trove inquired; for he was not aware that any
outside his own home knew it.
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