She was an odd girl!

"Oh, don't you understand. I want them only to feel like it. When you
saw that charcoal drawing I made the other day, you laughed."

"Well, it was funny."

"That's just it. An artist wants to be able to make people feel like
laughing or crying, for then he knows he has reached their soul."

"I've got to look after the water for a few minutes, then I'll come back
and help you carry your things," he said. "You're about through, aren't
you?"

"Thank you; I'll be ready now in a few minutes. Go see to your water.
I'll wait for you. How beautiful the west is now!"

They stood silently for a few moments side by side, looking at the glory
of the setting sun through banks of clouds and then down behind the
purple mountain. Then Dorian, with shovel on shoulder, hastened to his
irrigating. The blossoming field of lucerne was usually a common enough
sight, but now it was a stretch of sweet-scented waves of green and
purple.

Mildred looked at the farmer boy until he disappeared behind the willow
fence, then she began to pack up her things. Presently, she heard some
low bellowing, and, looking up, she saw a number of cows, with tails
erect, galloping across the fields. They had broken the fence, and were
now having a gay frolic on forbidden grounds. Mildred saw that they were
making directly for the corner of the pasture where she was. She was