“Sit down, little girl,” he entreated her. “I’m tired. I’ve worked hard all day at the store, and that corn-shucking wasn’t the best thing to taper off on.” She hesitated an instant longer, and then allowed him to draw her down beside him. “There, now,” he said, “that’s more like it.” He still held her hand; it lay warm, pulsating and helpless in his strong grasp. “Do you know why I did not kiss you back there?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t know why you didn’t, but it was good of you,” she answered. “No, it wasn’t,” he laughed. “I don’t want credit for what I don’t deserve. I simply put it off, little girl—I put it off. I knew we would be alone on our way home, and that you would not refuse me.” “But I shall!” she said. “I’m not going to let you kiss me here in—in—this way.” “Then you’ll not be keeping your part of the contract,” he said, tightening his grasp on her hand. “I’ve always considered you so fair in everything; and, Cynthia, you don’t know how much I want to kiss you. No, you won’t refuse me—you can’t!” His left arm was behind her, and it encircled her waist. She made an effort to draw herself erect, but he drew her closer to him. Her head sank upon his shoulder and lay there while he pressed his lips to hers. Then she sat up, and firmly pushed his arm down from her waist. “I’m sorry I let you do it,” she said, under her breath. “But why, darling?” “Because I’ve said a thousand times that I would not; but I have—I _have_, and I shall hate myself always.” “When you have made me the happiest fellow in the state?” Floyd said. “Don’t go!” he urged. She had risen and turned toward her home. He walked beside her, suiting his step to hers. “Do you remember the night we sat and talked in the grape-arbor at your house?” he asked. “Well, you never knew it, but I’ve been there three nights within the last month, hoping that I’d get to see you by some chance or other. I always work late on my accounts, and when I am through and the weather is fine, I walk to your house, climb over the fence, slip through the orchard, and sit in that arbor, trying to imagine you are there with me. I often see a light in your room, and the last time I became so desperate that I actually whistled for you. This way.” He put his thumb and little finger between his lips and made an imitation of a whippoorwill’s call. “You see, no one could tell that from the real thing. If you ever hear that sound from the grape-arbor, you’ll know I need you, little girl, and you must not disappoint me.” “I’d never respond to it,” Cynthia said firmly. “The idea of such a thing!” “But you know I can’t go to your house often, with your mother opposing my visits as she does, and when I’m there she never leaves us alone. No, I must have you to myself once in awhile, little woman, and you must help me. Remember, if I call you, I’ll want you badly.”