s hand, didn't seem too terrible.

"Wherever you want," she murmured.

"All right--I'll take a snip here where it twines round your ear--it
looks so sort of affectionate."

She giggled with him. Of course it was all terribly silly--and yet--

Then there followed a palpitant moment while she held her breath and
shut her eyes. A derisive shout caused her to open them quickly. There
stood Don Jones, grinning.

"Missy gave Raymond a lock of her hair! Missy gave Raymond a lock of her
hair!"

Missy's face grew hot; blushing was not now a pleasure; she looked up,
then down; she didn't know where to look.

"Gimme one, too! You got to play fair, Missy--gimme one, too!"

Then, in that confusion of spirit, she heard her voice, which didn't
seem to be her own voice but a stranger's, saying:

"All right, you can have one, too, if you want it, Don."

Don forthwith advanced. Missy couldn't forebear a timid glance toward
Raymond. Raymond was not looking pleased. She wished she might assure
him she didn't really want to give the lock to Don, and yet, at the same
time, she felt strangely thrilled at that lowering look on Raymond's
face. It was curious. She wanted Raymond to be happy, yet she didn't
mind his being just a little bit unhappy--this way. Oh, how complicated
and fascinating life can be!

During the remainder of their stay at the ford Missy was preoccupied
with this new revelation of herself and with a furtive study of Raymond
whose continued sulkiness was the cause of it. Raymond didn't once come
to her side during all that endless three-mile tramp back to Cherryvale;
but she was conscious of his eye on her as she trudged along beside Don
Jones. She didn't feel like talking to Don Jones. Nor was the rest of
the crowd, now, a lively band; it was harder to laugh than it had been
in the morning; harder even to talk. And when they did talk, little
unsuspected irritabilities began to gleam out. For now, when weary feet
must somehow cover those three miles, thoughts of the journey's end
began to rise up in the truants' minds. During the exalted moments of
adventure they hadn't thought of consequences. That's a characteristic
of exalted moments. But now, so to speak, the ball was over, the roses
all shattered and faded, and the weary dancers must face the aftermath
of to-morrow...

And Missy, trudging along the dusty road beside Don Jones who didn't
count, felt all kinds of shadows rising up to eclipse brightness in
he