Sieur Amadis has told me!--if you care to hear it!"

"I'm not sure that I do," he answered, dubiously.

She laughed.

"Oh, Robin!--how ungrateful you are! You ought to be so pleased!
If you really loved me as much as you say, the mere sound of my
voice ought to fill you with ecstasy! Yes, really! Come, be good!"
And she sat down on the grass, glancing up at him invitingly. He
flung himself beside her, and she extended her little white hand
to him with a pretty condescension.

"There!--you may hold it!" she said, as he eagerly clasped it--
"Yes, you may! Now, if the Sieur Amadis had been allowed to hold
the hand of the lady he loved he would have gone mad with joy!"

"Much good he'd have done by going mad!" growled Robin, with an
affectation of ill-humour--"I'd rather be sane,--sane and normal."

She bent her smiling eyes upon him.

"Would you? Poor Robin! Well, you will be--when you settle down--"

"Settle down?" he echoed--"How? What do you mean?"

"Why, when you settle down with a wife, and--shall we say six
children?" she queried, merrily--"Yes, I think it must be six!
Like the Sieur Amadis! And when you forget that you ever sat with
me under the trees, holding my hand--so!"