She asked me how old I was.
"Twenty-one," said I.
"Why, you baby!" said she, and kissed me with the sweetest kiss of winds and odours.

There was a cool faithfulness in the kiss that revived my heart wonderfully.

I felt that I feared the dreadful Ash no more.
"What did the horrible Ash want with me ?" I said.
"I am not quite sure, but I think he wants to bury you at the foot of his tree.

But he shall not touch you, my child." "Are all the ash-trees as dreadful as he ?" "Oh, no.

They are all disagreeable selfish creatures--( what horrid men they will make, if it be true!)--but this one has a hole in his heart that nobody knows of but one or two; and he is always trying to fill it up, but he cannot.