ssalie, and his purpose perfectly transparent to her
smiling eyes.

But she consented prettily, and went with him without demurring,
picking her way over the stepping-stone walk with downcast gaze and
the trace of a smile on her lips--a smile as delicately indefinable as
the fancy which moved her to accept this young man's headlong
advances--which had recognized them and accepted them from the first.
But why, she did not even yet understand.

"Agreeable weather, isn't it?" said Westmore, fatuously revealing his
present paucity of ideas apart from those which concerned the wooing
of her. And he was an intelligent young man at that, and a sculptor of
attainment, too. But now, in his infatuated head, there remained room
only for one thought, the thought of this girl who walked so demurely
and daintily beside him over the flat, grass-set stepping stones
toward the three white pines on the little hill.

For it had been something or other at first sight with Westmore--love,
perhaps--anyway that is what he called the mental chaos which now
disorganised him. And it was certain that something happened to him
the first time he laid eyes on Thessalie Dunois. He knew it, and she
could not avoid seeing it, so entirely naive his behaviour, so utterly
guileless his manoeuvres, so direct, unfeigned and childish his
methods of approach.

At moments she felt nervous and annoyed by his behaviour; at other
times apprehensive and helpless, as though she were responsible for
something that did not know how to take care of itself--something
immature, irrational, and entirely at her mercy. And it may have been
the feminine response to this increasing sense of obligation--the
confused instinct to guide, admonish and protect--that began being the
matter with her.

Anyway, from the beginning the man had a certain fascination for her,
unwillingly divined on her part, yet specifically agreeable even to
the point of exhilaration. Also, somehow or other, the girl realised
he had a brain.

And yet he was a pitiably hopeless case; for even now he was saying
such things as:

"Are you quite sure that your feet are dry? I should never forgive
myself, Thessa, if you took cold.... Are you tired?... How wonderful
it is to be here alone with you, and strive to interpret the mystery
of your mind and heart! Sit here under the pines. I'll spread my coat
for you.... Nature is wonderful, isn't it, Thessa?"

And when she gravely consented to seat herself