I guessed, "Fern," "Feather," "Fife." And here my resources
failed me.

Mary sighed, and shook her head. "You don't take pains," she
said. "You are three whole years older than I am. After all the
trouble I have taken to please you, you may be too big to care
for my present when you see it. Guess again."

"I can't guess."

"You must!"

"I give it up."

Mary refused to let me give it up. She helped me by another hint.

"What did you once say you wished you had in your boat?" she
asked.

"Was i t long ago?" I inquired, at a loss for an answer.

"Long, long ago! Before the winter. When the autumn leaves were
falling, and you took me out one evening for a sail. Ah, George,
_ you_ have forgotten!"

Too true, of me and of my brethren, old and young alike! It is
always _his_ love that forgets, and _her_ love that remembers. We
were only two children, and we were types of the man and the
woman already.