Absolute, undiluted truth, even of a complimentary nature, is
confounding to most women. Miss Mayfield was no exception to her sex.
She first laughed, as she felt she ought to, and properly might with any
other man than Jeff; then she got frightened, and said hurriedly, "No,
no! you misunderstand me. Your aunt has said nothing." And then she
stopped with a pink spot on her cheek-bones. First blood for Jeff!

Now this would never do; it was worse than the butterflies! She rose to
her full height--four feet eleven and a half--and drew her cloak over
her shoulders. "I think I will return to the house," she said quietly;
"I suppose I ought not to overtask my strength."

"You'd better let me go with you, miss," said Jeff submissively.

"I will, on one condition," she said, recovering her archness, with a
little venom in it, I fear. "You were going home, too, when I called to
you. Now, I do not intend to let you leave that bag behind that tree,
and then have to come back for it, just because you feel obliged to
go with me. Bring it with you on one arm, and I'll take the other, or
else--I'll go alone. Don't be alarmed," she added softly; "I'm stronger
than I was the first night I came, when you carried me and all my
worldly goods besides."

She turned upon him her subtle magnetic eyes, and looked at him as she
had the first night they met. Jeff turned away bewildered, but presently
appeared again with the bag on his shoulder, and her wrap on his arm.
As she slipped her little hand over his sleeve, he began, apologetically
and nervously,

"When I said that about Aunt Sally, miss, I"--