The girl was not a bit "stuck up," and she entered easily and naturally into the home life on the farm.

She had changed considerably since Dorian had last seen her, some two years ago.

Her face was still pale, although it seemed that a little pink was now creeping into her cheeks; her eyes were still big and round and blue; her hair was now done up in thick shining braids.

She talked freely to Dorian and his mother, and at last Dorian had to some extent been able to find his tongue in the presence of a girl nearly his own age.
The two stopped in the shade of the willow.

He set up the easel and opened the stool, while she got out her colors and brushes.
"Thank you," she said to him.