r clamoring,
boasting intellectuality, are no more than puppets in Nature's hands.

"Are you Spawn's daughter?"

"Yes."

"I saw you a while ago, when I was having my meal."

"Yes--I was watching you."

"I thought you were a boy."

"Yes. My father told me to keep away. I wanted to meet you, so I came to
wake you up."

"He may be watching us now."

"No. He is sleeping. Listen--you can hear him snore."

I could, indeed. The silence of the garden was broken now by a distant,
choking snore.

We both laughed. She sat on the little mossy seat in the pergola doorway
And on the side away from the snore. (I had the wit to be sure of that.)

"I wanted to meet you," she repeated. "Was it too bold?"

* * * * *

I think that what we said sitting there with the slanting moonlight on
us, could not have amounted to much. Yet for us, it was so important!
Vital. Building memories which I knew--and I think that she knew, even
then--we would never forget.

"I will be here a week, Jetta."

"I want--I want very much to know you. I want you to tell me about the
world of the Highlands. I have a few books. I can't read very well, but
I can look at the pictures."

"Oh, I see--"

"A traveler gave them to me. I've got them hidden. But he was an old
man: all men seem to be old--except those in the pictures, and you,
Philip."

I laughed. "Well, that's too bad. I'm mighty glad I'm young."

Ah, in that moment, with blessed youth surging in my veins, I was glad
indeed!

"Young. I don't remember ever seeing anyone like you. The man I am to
marry is not like you. He is old, like father--"

I drew back from her, startled.

"Marry?"

"Yes. When I am seventeen. The law of Nareda--your Highland law, too,
father says--will not let a girl be married until she is that age. In a
month I am seventeen."

"Oh!" And I stammered, "But why are you going to marry?"

"Because father tells me to. And then I shall have fine clothes: it is
promised me. And go to live in the Highlands, perhaps. And see things;
and be a woman, not a ragged boy forbidden to show myself; and--"

* * * * *

I was barely touching her. It seemed as though something--some vision of
happiness which had been given me--were fading, were being snatched
away. I was conscious of my hand moving to touch hers.

"Why do you marry--unless you're in love? Are you?"

Her gaze like a child came up to meet mine.