walked in the starlight, you might have counted the rise and fall of their
feet in the sand; and Waldo in his saddle nodded drowsily also. Only Em
was awake, and watched the starlit road with wide-open eyes. At last she
spoke.

"I wonder if all people feel so old, so very old, when they get to be
seventeen?"

"Not older than before," said Waldo sleepily, pulling at his bridle.

Presently she said again:

"I wish I could have been a little child always. You are good then. You
are never selfish; you like every one to have everything; but when you are
grown up there are some things you like to have all to yourself, you don't
like any one else to have any of them."

"Yes," said Waldo sleepily, and she did not speak again.

When they reached the farmhouse all was dark, for Lyndall had retired as
soon as they got home.

Waldo lifted Em from her saddle, and for a moment she leaned her head on
his shoulder and clung to him.

"You are very tired," he said, as he walked with her to the door; "let me
go in and light a candle for you."

"No, thank you; it is all right," she said. "Good night, Waldo, dear."