looking fellow with laughter in his gray eyes and a little quizzical
smile playing round a good firm mouth. He looked like a man who
ought to have been in the navy and who, instead, gave the impression
of having been born among horses. His small, dark head was bare; his
skin had already caught the sun, and as he stood in his brown
sweater with his hands thrust into the pockets of his riding
breeches, he seemed to her to be just exactly like the brother that
she ought to have had if she had had any luck at all, and she held
out a friendly hand with a comfortable feeling of absolute security.

With some self-consciousness he took it and bowed with a nice touch
of deference. He tried to hide the catch in his breath and the
admiration in his eyes. "I'm glad it's spring," he said, not knowing
quite what he was saying.

"So am I," said Joan. "Just look at those violets and the way the
leaves are bursting."

"I know. Great, isn't it? Are you going anywhere?"

"No. I've nowhere to go."

"Same here. Let's go together."

And they both laughed, and the squirrel that had come to meet Joan
darted off with a sour look. He had anticipated a fat meal of
peanuts. He was out of it now, he saw, and muttered whatever was the
squirrel equivalent for a swear-word.

The boy and girl took the path that ran round the outskirts of the