"Not half so wonderful as you, Lahoma." His voice vibrated with
sudden intensity. "There's your wonderful hair, like light shining
through a brown veil ... and your eyes where your soul keeps her
lights flashing when all the rest of you is in twilight ... and your
hands and feet, four faithful little guides to the wonderful
treasures that belong only to maidenhood ... and your mouth,
changing with your thoughts--an adorable little thermometer, showing
how high the smiles have risen in your heart; a mouth so pure and
sweet--"

"Hey!" shouted Bill Atkins, as he and Brick came around the angle
of the hill. "Hi, there! You may call that strolling, but if so,
it's because you don't know its true name, if you ask ME!"

Wilfred came to himself with a sharp indrawing of his breath.
"Yes," he stammered, somewhat dizzily, "Yes, I--I must be going,
now."

She held his hand beseechingly. "But you'll come again, won't you?
When I hold your hand, it's like grabbing at a bit of the big
world."

"No, Lahoma, I'm not coming again." His look was long and steady,
showing sudden purpose which concealed regret beneath a frank smile
of liking.

She still held his hand, her brown eyes large with entreaty. "You
WILL come again, Wilfred! You must come again! Don't mind Bill.
I'll have a talk with him after you're gone. I'll send him over to
the ranch after you. Just say you'll come again if I send for you."