e or polite I would have been as miserably shy as I've always been
in a man's presence. But it was the smile of a grandfather for a
child, and I just grinned cheerfully back at him.

He ploughed along through the thick drift that was soft and spongy by
the fence and came close up to me.

"You must be little Cornelia," he said with another aged smile. "Or
rather, you _were_ little Cornelia. I suppose you are big Cornelia now
and want to be treated like a young lady?"

"Indeed, I don't," I protested. "I'm not grown up and I don't want to
be. You are Mr. Elliot, I suppose. Nobody expected you till next week.
What made you come so soon?"

"A whim of mine," he said. "I'm full of whims and crotchets. Old
bachelors always are. But why did you ask that question in a tone
which seemed to imply that you resented my coming so soon, Miss
Cornelia?"

"Oh, don't tack the Miss on," I implored. "Call me Cornelia ... or
better still, Nic, as Dad does. I _do_ resent your coming so soon. I
resent your coming at all. And, oh, it is such a satisfaction to tell
you so."

He smiled with his eyes ... a deep, black, velvety smile. But he shook
his head sorrowfully.

"I must be getting very old," he said. "It's a sign of age when a
person finds himself unwelcome and superfluous."

"Your age has nothing to do with it," I retorted. "It is because
Stillwater is the only place I have to run wild in ... and running
wild is all I'm fit for. It's so lovely and roomy I can lose myself in
it. I shall die or go mad if I'm cooped up on our little pocket
handkerchief of a lawn."

"But why should you be?" he inquired gravely.

I reflected ... and was surprised.

"After all, I don't know ... now ... why I should be," I admitted. "I
thought you wouldn't want me prowling about your domains. Besides, I
was afraid I'd meet you ... and I don't like meeting men. I hate to
have them around ... I'm so shy and awkward."

"Do you find me very dreadful?" he asked.

I reflected again ... and was again surprised.

"No, I don't. I don't mind you a bit ... any more than if you were
Dad."

"Then you mustn't consider yourself an exile from Stillwater. The
woods are yours to roam in at will, and if you want to roam them alone
you may, and if you'd like a companion once in a while command me.
Let's be good friends, little lass. Shake hands on it."

I slipped down from the fence and shook hands with him. I did like him
very much ... he was so nice and unaff