ck and scream, I relighted my
pipe, and we strolled forward.

A country walk with Jill is never dull.

To do the thing comfortably, you should be followed by a file of
pioneers in marching order, a limbered waggon, and a portable pond.
Before we had covered another two hundred yards, I had collected three
more sprays, two ferns, and a square foot of moss--the latter, much to
the irritation of its inhabitants, many of whom refused to evacuate
their homes and therefore accompanied us. I drew the line at frogs, on
the score of cruelty to animals, but when we met one about the size of
a postage stamp, it was a very near thing. Finally, against my advice,
my cousin stormed a bank, caught her foot in an invisible wire, and
fell flat upon her face.

"There now!" I cried testily, dropping our spoils and scrambling to her
assistance.

"I'm not a bit hurt," she cried, getting upon her feet. "Not a scrap.
And--and don't be angry with me, Boy. Jonah's been cross all day. He
says my skirt is too short. And it isn't, is it?"

"Not when you don't fall down," said I. "At least--well, it is rather,
isn't it?"

Jill put her feet together and drew the cloth close about her silk
stockings. It fell, perhaps, one inch below her knees. For a moment
she regarded the result. Then she looked up at me and put her head on
one side....

I have grown up with Jill. I have seen her in habits, in ball-dresses,
in dressing-gowns. I have seen her hair up, and I have seen it tumbled
about her shoulders. I have seen her grave, and I have seen her gay.
I have seen her on horseback, and I have seen her asleep. But never in
all my life shall I forget the picture which at this moment she made.

One thick golden tress, shaken loose by her fall, lay curling down past
the bloom of her cheek on to her shoulder. The lights in it blazed.
From beneath the brim of her small tight-fitting hat her great grave
eyes held mine expectantly. The stars in them seemed upon the edge of
dancing. Her heightened colour, the poise of her shapely head, the
parted lips lent to that exquisite face the air of an elf. All the
sweet grace of a child was welling out of her maidenhood. Her
apple-green frock fitted the form of a shepherdess. Her pretty grey
legs and tiny feet were those of a fairy. Its very artlessness trebled
the attraction of her pose. Making his sudden way between the boughs,
the sun flung a warm bar of light athwart her white throat and t