off. That kiss had brought her relations with Henry to a crisis. It had
precipitated the necessity of some decision. She could no longer hold him
off, and play with him. By that bold dash he had gained a vantage-ground,
a certain masterful attitude which he had never held before. Yet, after
all, I am not sure that she was not just a little afraid of him, and,
moreover, that she did not like him all the better for it. It was such a
novel feeling that it began to make some things, thought of in connection
with him, seem more possible to her mind than they had ever seemed
before. As she peeped furtively at this young man, so suddenly grown
formidable, as he reclined carelessly on the ground at her feet, she
admitted to herself that there was something very manly in the sturdy
figure and square forehead, with the curly black locks hanging over it.
She looked at him with a new interest, half shrinking, half attracted, as
one who might come into a very close relation with herself. She scarcely
knew whether the thought was agreeable or not.

"Give me your hat," she said, "and I'll put some lilies in it."

"You are very good," said he, handing it to her.

"Does it strike you so?" she replied, hesitatingly. "Then I won't do it.
I don't want to appear particularly good to you. I didn't know just how
it would seem."

"Oh, it won't seem very good; only about middling," he urged, upon which
representation she took the hat.

He watched her admiringly as she deftly wreathed the lilies around it,
holding it up, now this way and now that, while she critically inspected
the effect.