Down the lane they flew--very much, as it seemed to Clarence's fancy, as they had flown from the old emigrant wagon on the prairie, four years before.

He glanced at the fluttering, fairy-like figure beside him.

She had grown taller and more graceful; she was dressed in exquisite taste, with a minuteness of luxurious detail that bespoke the spoilt child; but there was the same prodigal outburst of rippling, golden hair down her back and shoulders, violet eyes, capricious little mouth, and the same delicate hands and feet he had remembered.

He would have preferred a more deliberate survey, but with a shake of her head and an hysteric little laugh she only said, "Run, Clarence, run," and again darted forward.

Arriving at the cross-street, they turned the corner, and halted breathlessly.
"But you're not running away from school, Susy, are you ?" said Clarence anxiously.
"Only a little bit.