She put up her hand as though instinctively to shield it.
"I've done my best to--to--to--" She stopped, became piteously silent, and suddenly he saw that she was crying behind the sheltering hand.
He softened almost in spite of himself.
"Come here, Puck!" he said.
She shook her head dumbly.
"Come here!" he repeated.
She came towards him slowly, as if against her will.

He reached forward, still seated, and drew her to him.
She trembled at his touch, trembled and started away, yet in the end she yielded.
"Please," she whispered; "please!" He put his arm round her very gently, yet with determination, making her stand beside him.
"Why don't you want to go to the Hills ?" he said.
"I'd be frightened," she murmured.
"Frightened?
Why ?" "I don't know," she said, vaguely.
"Yes, but you do know.

You must know.
Tell me." He spoke gently, but the stubborn note was in his voice and his hold was insistent.

"Leave off crying and tell me!" "I'm not crying," said Puck.
She uncovered her face and looked down at him through tears with a faintly mischievous smile.
"Tell me!" he reiterated.

"Is it because you don't like the idea of leaving me ?" Her smile flashed full out upon him on the instant.
"Goodness, no! Whatever made you think that ?" she demanded, briskly.
He was momentarily disconcerted, but he recovered himself at once.
"Then what is your objection to going ?" he asked.
She turned and sat down conversationally on the corner of the table.
"Well, you know, Billikins, it's like this.