She accepted Timothy's offer of aid as one who is forced to something
inevitable, and bent her head obediently so that he could get at the
snarl better. Timothy worked away in silence, his knees braced in the
soft ground. His fingers were never very good at this sort of thing,
and right now they seemed to become clumsiness personified. They
trembled so that the snarl seemed to grow worse and worse with each
moment. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to control his hands
and his heart, which raced and beat so loudly above the crouching girl.
He was quite sure she heard it. This nearness was almost more than he
could bear.

And to have his hands buried in that fragrant mass of the hair he
loved, suddenly proved his undoing.

He stopped his ineffectual work of untangling; but Arethusa did not
know that he had until she felt herself held close to a wildly beating
heart and heard him whispering, hoarsely, "Arethusa, I ... I just can't
bear it ... any longer!"

Then Timothy Kissed her. He kissed her hungrily; her hair, caught in
the branches, her startled eyes, her cheeks, and last of all, her
mouth.

"I love you," he said, brokenly, over and over again. "I love you!"

And Arethusa lay very quietly, and listened to him say it.

"I can't get your hair out," said Timothy, miserably, "I'll go and get
somebody at the house to come, but I...."

Then Arethusa spoke, softly.

"I don't want you to go get somebody at the house. I want you,
yourself, to get my hair out."

He almost groaned. Why did she make things so terribly hard for him?
Suddenly, something occurred to Timothy. Arethusa had not even tried to
slap him for those kisses, nor had she made even the beginnings of a
struggle to get away; which was all most un-Arethusa like. He looked
down at her, and he saw that her eyes were full of a truly wonderful
light, a light which he had never seen in those eyes before, and it was
shining straight at him.

"I want _you_ to get my hair out," she repeated, "but bef ... before
you do, T ... Timothy, please ki ... kiss me again!"

Timothy did as requested.

And the whole world did seem to really be hushed into a Startled
Silence by What had happened.

And Arethusa forgot that her hair was fastened apparently inextricably
in the branches of the Hollow Tree; perhaps the Hollow Tree had served
its best purpose in crashing to the ground. She forgot all about Mr.
Bennet and that Timothy might not want to marry her if