"I am really astonished," the fair maid said, with the gleam of a smile in her lively eyes, but her bright lips very steadfast, "to be compared to a willow-tree. I thought that a willow meant--but never mind, I am glad to be like a willow." "Oh no! oh no! You are not one bit--I am sure you will never be like a willow. What could I have been thinking of?" "No harm whatever, I am sure of that," she answered, with so sweet a look, that he stopped from scraping the toe of his boot on a clump of moss; and in his heart was wholly taken up with her--"I am sure that you meant to be very polite." "More than that--a great deal more than that--oh, ever so much more than that!" She let him look at her for a moment, because he had something that he wanted to express. And she, from pure natural curiosity, would have been glad to know what it was. And so their eyes dwelt upon one another just long enough for each to be almost ashamed of leaving off; and in that short time they seemed to be pleased with one another's nature. The youth was the first to look away; because he feared that he might be rude; whereas a maiden cannot be rude. With the speed of a glance she knew all that, and she blushed at the colour these things were taking. "I am sure that I ought to go," she said. "And so ought I, long and long ago. I am sure I cannot tell why I stop. If you were to get into any trouble----" "You are very kind. You need not be anxious. If you do not know why you stop--the sooner you run away at full speed the better." "Oh, I hope you won't say that," he replied, being gifted by nature with powers of courting, which only wanted practice. "I really think that you scarcely ought to say so unkind a thing as that." "Very well, then. May I say this, that you have important things to attend to, and that it looks--indeed it does--as if it was coming on to rain?" "I assure you there is no fear of that--although, if it did, there is plenty of shelter. But look at the sun--how it shines in your hair! Oh, why do you keep your hair so short? It looks as if it ought to be ten feet long." "Well, suppose that it was--not quite ten feet, for that would be rather hard to manage--but say only half that length, and then for a very good reason was all cut off--but that is altogether another thing, and in no way can concern you. I give you a very good day, sir." "No, no! you will give me a very bad day, if you hurry away so suddenly. I am anxious to know a great deal more about you. Why do you live in this lonely place, quite as if you were imprisoned here? And what makes you look so unhappy sometimes, although your nature is so bright? There! what a brute I am! I have made you cry. I ought to shoot myself." "You must not talk of such wicked things. I am not crying; I am very happy--at least, I mean quite happy enough. Good-bye! or I never shall bear you again."