I can't bear to give it away.

Nedda, come down lower and let's love each other!" Softly, stumbling, clinging together, they went down to the last turn of the wide stairs.

How many times had she not sat there, in white frocks, her hair hanging down as now, twisting the tassels of little programmes covered with hieroglyphics only intelligible to herself, talking spasmodically to spasmodic boys with budding 'tails,' while Chinese lanterns let fall their rose and orange light on them and all the other little couples as exquisitely devoid of ease.

Ah! it was worth those hours of torture to sit there together now, comforting each other with hands and lips and whisperings.

It was more, as much more than that moment in the orchard, as sun shining after a Spring storm is more than sun in placid mid-July.