at Green Hill, let's camp out up there?"

"You don't mean stay all night?" she said, flinching. "Oh, wouldn't it
be very uncomfortable? I--I hate the dark."

The sweet foolishness of it enchanted him (baby love feeds on pap!)
"Pitch dark," he teased, "and lions and tigers roaring around, and
snakes--"

"Of course I'll go, if you want me to," she said, simply, but with a
real sinking of the heart.

"Edith adores it," he said. "Speaking of Edith, I must tell you
something so funny. Last summer I was at Green Hill, and one night Mr.
and Mrs. Houghton were away, and there was a storm. Gee, I never saw
such a storm in my life! Edith has no more nerves than a tree, but even
she was scared. Well, I was scared myself."

He had stretched himself out on the sofa, and she was kneeling beside
him, her eyes worshiping him. "_I_ would have been scared to death," she
confessed.

"Well, _I_ was!" he said. "The tornado--it was just about that!--burst
on to us, and nearly blew the house off the hill--and such an infernal
bellowing, and hellish green lightning, you never saw! Well, I was just
thinking about Buster--her father calls her Buster; and wondering
whether she was scared, when in she rushed, in her night-gown. She made
a running jump for my bed, dived into it, grabbed me, and hugged me so I
was 'most suffocated, and screamed into my ear, 'There's a storm!'--as
if I hadn't noticed it. I said--I could hardly make myself heard in the