used to me, as William Adolphus put it, all the sooner. I
took courage. The spirit of the scene gained some hold on me. I grew
less repressed in manner, more ardent in looks. I lost my old desire not
to magnify what I felt. The coquetry in her waged now an equal battle
with her timidity.

"You're sure you like me?" she asked.

"Is it incredible? Have they never told you how pretty you are?"

She laughed nervously, but with evident pleasure. Her eyes were bright
with excitement. I held out my hands, and she put hers into them. I drew
her to me and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She shrank suddenly away
from me.

"Don't be frightened," I said, smiling.

"I am frightened," she answered, with a look that seemed almost like
defiance.

"Shall we say nothing about it for a little while?"

This proposal did not seem to attract her, or to touch the root of the
trouble, if trouble there were.

"I must tell mother," she said.

"Then we'll tell everybody." I saw her looking at me with earnest
anxiety. "My dear," said I, "I'll do what I can to make you happy."

We began to walk back through the wood side by side. Less on my guard
than I ought to have been, I allowed myself to fall into a reverie. My
thoughts fled back to previous love-makings, and, having travelled
through these, fixed themselves on Varvilliers. It was but two days
since I sent him a letter almost asserting that the task was impossible
to achieve. He would laugh when he heard of its so speedy
accomplishment. I began in my own mind to tell him about it, for I had
come to like telling him my states of feeling, and no doubt often bored
him with them; but he seemed to understand them, and in his constant
minimizing of their importance I found a comfort. I had indeed almost
followed the advice he would have given me--almost taken her up and
kissed her, and there ended the matter. A low laugh escaped from me.

"Why are you laughing?" Elsa asked, turning to me with a puzzled look.

"I've been so very much afraid of you," I answered.

"You afraid of me!" she cried. "Oh, if you only knew how terrified I've
been!" She seemed to be seized with an impulse to confidence. "It was
terrible coming here to see whether I should do, you know."

"You knew you'd do!"

"Oh, no. Mother always told me I mightn't. She said you were--were
rather peculiar."

"I don't know enough about other people to be able to say whether I'm
peculiar."

She laughed, but not as thoug