thrown the red cloak over her own head, and held it under her chin with a
little hand, to keep from her ears the wind, that playfully shook it, and
tossed the little fringe of yellow hair into her eyes.

"Is it not too cold for you to be standing here?" said Gregory, coming
softly close to her.

"Oh, no; it is so nice. I always come to watch the milking. That red cow
with the short horns is bringing up the calf of the white cow that died.
She loves it so--just as if it were her own. It is so nice to see her lick
its little ears. Just look!"

"The clouds are black. I think it is going to rain tonight," said Gregory.

"Yes," answered Em, looking up as well as she could for the little yellow
fringe.

"But I'm sure you must be cold," said Gregory, and put his hand under the
cloak, and found there a small fist doubled up, soft, and very warm. He
held it fast in his hand.

"Oh, Em, I love you better than all the world besides! Tell me, do you
love me a little?"

"Yes, I do," said Em, hesitating, and trying softly to free her hand.

"Better than everything; better than all the world, darling?" he asked,
bending down so low that the yellow hair was blown into his eyes.

"I don't know," said Em, gravely. "I do love you very much; but I love my