"Very."

They were silent then, and the girl's face grew serious as she
rested on her oars, and still surveyed him with a straight, candid
gaze, that, though earnest and penetrating, had nothing of boldness
in it. It was the look of one in whose past there were no secrets--
the look of a child who is satisfied with the present and takes no
thought for the future. Few women look so after they have entered
their teens. Social artifice, affectation, and the insatiate vanity
that modern life encourages in the feminine nature--all these things
soon do away with the pellucid clearness and steadfastness of the
eye--the beautiful, true, untamed expression, which, though so rare,
is, when seen infinitely more bewitching than all the bright arrows
of coquetry and sparkling invitation that flash from the glances of
well-bred society dames, who have taken care to educate their eyes
if not their hearts. This girl was evidently not trained properly;
had she been so, she would have dropped a curtain over those wide,
bright windows of her soul; she would have remembered that she was
alone with a strange man at midnight--at midnight, though the sun
shone; she would have simpered and feigned embarrassment, even if
she could not feel it. As it happened, she did nothing of the kind,
only her expression softened and became more wistful and earnest,
and when she spoke again her voice was mellow with a suave
gentleness, that had something in it of compassion.

"If you do not love life itself," she said, "you love the beautiful
things of life, do you not? See yonder! There is what we call the
meeting of night and morning. One is glad to be alive at such a
moment. Look quickly! The light soon fades."