John worked at it a moment and handed it to her with, "Why?"

She threw it, standing up to give her arm strength. She sat down and
folded her hands and waited for another "why." When it came she said,
"Oh, you know why." When he protested she answered, "Ma thinks Molly's
too young."

"Too young for what?" demanded the boy, who knew.

"Too young to be going with boys."

There was a long pause, then he managed to say it, "She's no younger
than you were--nor half as old."

"When?" returned the girl, giving him the broadside of her eyes for a
second, and letting them droop. The eyes bewitched the boy, and he
could not speak. At length the girl shivered, "It's getting cold--I
must go home."

The boy found voice. "Aw no, Bob and Molly are still up there."

She started to rise, he caught her hand, but she pulled it away and
resigned herself for a moment. Then she looked at him a long second
and said, "Do you remember years ago at the Frye boy's party--when we
were little tots, and I chose you?"

The boy nodded his head and turned full toward her with serious eyes.
He devoured her feature by feature with his gaze in the starlight. The
moon was just rising at the end of the mill-dam behind them, and its
light fell on her profile. He cried out, "Yes, Ellen, do you--do
you?"

She nodded her head and spoke quickly, "That was the time you got your
hands stuck in the taffy and had to be soaked out."

They laughed. John tried to get the moment back. "Do you remember the
rubber ring I gave you?"

She grew bold and turned to him with her heart in her face:
"Yes--yes, John, and the coffee-bean locket. I've got them both in a
little box at home." Then, scampering back to her reserve, she added,
"You know ma says I'm a regular rat to store things away." She felt
that the sudden reserve chilled him, for in a minute or two she said,
looking at the bridge: "They're going now. We mustn't stay but a
minute." She put her hand on the rock between them, and said, "You
remember that night when you went away before?" Before he answered she
went on: "I was counting up this afternoon, and it's six years ago. We
were just children then."

Again the boy found his voice: "Ellen Culpepper, we've been going
together seven years. Don't you think that's long enough?"

"We were just children then," she replied.

The boy leaned awkwardly toward her and their hands met on the rock,
and he withdrew his as he asked, "Do you--do you?"

She bent