"I like that part of you.
There's something rather quaint about it."

His quick smile flashed upon her. "Oh, thanks awfully! I'm glad I'm
quaint. But I didn't know it was a quality that appealed to you.
I've been laying even odds with myself that I'd make you have me in
spite of it."

She coloured a little. "It doesn't really count one way or the other with
me, Dick, any more than it would count with you if I hawked stale fish in
the street for cat's meat. You see I haven't forgotten that pretty
compliment of yours. But--"

"But?" he said, frowning whimsically. "We'll have the end of that
sentence, please. It's the very thing I want to get at. What is
the 'but'?"

She hesitated.

"Go on!" he commanded.

"Don't be a tyrant, Dick!" she said.

"My beautiful princess!" He touched her shoulder with his lips. "Then
don't you--please--be a goose! Tell me--quick!"

"And if I can't tell you, Dick? If--if it's just an instinct that says,
Wait? We've been too headlong as it is. I can't--I daren't--go on at this
pace." She was almost tearful. "I must have a little breathing-space
indeed. I came here for peace and quietness, as you know."

He broke into a sudden laugh. "So you did, dear. You were playing
hide-and-seek with yourself, weren't you? I'll bet you never expected to
find the other half of yourself in this remote corner, did you? Well,
never mind! Don't cry sweetheart--anyhow till you've got a decent excuse.
I don't want to rush you into anything against your will. Taken properly,
I'm the meekest fellow in creation. But we must have things on a sensible
footing. You see that, don't you?"

"If we could be just friends," she said.

"Well, I'm quite willing to be friends." He laughed into her eyes. "Why
so distressful? Don't you like the prospect?"

She drew his hand down into her lap and held it between her own, looking
gravely down at it. "Dick!" she said.

His smile passed. "Well, dear? What is it? You're not going to be
afraid of me?"

She did not answer him. "I want you to leave me free a little
longer," she said.

"But you are not free now," he said.

She threw him a brief, half-startled glance. "I don't mean that," she
said rather haltingly. "I mean I want you--not to ask any promise of
me--not to insist upon any bond between us--not to--not to--expect a
formal engagement--until,--well, until--"

"Until you are ready to marry me," he suggested quietly.

A quick tremor went through her. "That wo