know. Do be good-natured and sit down." And he patted the ground close
beside him.

Shy laughed again. The laugh had in it an exquisite note of shyness,
which he liked.

"Why do you want me to sit down?" she asked suddenly.

"Because I want to talk to you."

"Can't you talk to me standing up?"

"I suppose I could," said Bob, "but--I shouldn't be able to say such nice
things to you."

The corners of her mouth trembled a little.

"And whose loss would that be?" she asked.

Bob Worthington was surprised at this retort, and correspondingly
delighted. He had not expected it in a country storekeeper's daughter,
and he stared at Cynthia so frankly that she blushed again, and turned
away. He was a young man who, it may be surmised, had had some experience
with the other sex at Andover and elsewhere. He had not spent all of his
life in Brampton.

"I've often thought of you since that day when you wouldn't take the
whistle," he declared. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing at you," said Cynthia, leaning against the tree, with her