She smiled at the fancy; and much graceful badinage went on between them.

I had never before seen John in the company of women, and I marvelled to perceive the refinement of his language, and the poetic ideas it clothed.

I forgot the truth--of whose saying was it?
--"that once in his life every man becomes a poet." They stood by the little rivulet, and he showed her how the water came from the spring above; the old well-head where the cattle drank; how it took its course merrily through the woods, till at the bottom of the valley below it grew into a wide stream.
"Small beginnings make great endings," observed Miss March, sententiously.
John answered her with the happiest smile! He dipped his hollowed palm into the water and drank: she did the same.

Then, in her free-hearted girlish fun, she formed a cup out of a broad leaf, which, by the greatest ingenuity, she managed to make contain about two teaspoonfuls of water for the space of half a minute, and held it to my mouth.
"I am like Rebecca at the well.

Drink, Eleazer," she cried, gaily.
John looked on.