They stood there for a moment, Ken on the lower step.

The step was half sunk into the earth and mint grew thickly about and over its edge.

Often crushed by so many passing feet it gave out its essence freely, and the spicy odour hung round them like a soundless, invisible benediction.

Ken looked up at Rilla, whose hair was shining in the moonlight and whose eyes were pools of allurement.

All at once he felt sure there was nothing in that gossip about Fred Arnold.
"Rilla," he said in a sudden, intense whisper, "you are the sweetest thing." Rilla flushed and looked at Susan.