Even in the mischievous glances of evasive squirrels and the moist eyes of the contemplative rabbits there were faint suggestions of some of his own truants.

The woods were trembling with gentle memories of the independence he had always known here--of that sweet and grave retreat now so ridiculously invaded.
He began to hesitate, with one of those revulsions of sentiment characteristic of his nature: Why should he bother himself about this girl after all?
Why not make up his mind to accept her as his predecessor had done?
Why was it necessary for him to find her inconsistent with his ideas of duty to his little flock and his mission to them?
Was he not assuming a sense of decorum that was open to misconception?
The absurdity of her school costume, and any responsibility it incurred, rested not with him but with her parents.
What right had he to point it out to them, and above all how was he to do it?
He halted irresolutely at what he believed was his sober second thought, but which, like most reflections that take that flattering title, was only a reaction as impulsive and illogical as the emotion that preceded it.
Mr.McKinstry's "snake rail" fence was already discernible in the lighter opening of the woods, not far from where he had halted.

As he stood there in hesitation, the pretty figure and bright gown of Cressy McKinstry suddenly emerged from a more secluded trail that intersected his own at an acute angle a few rods ahead of him.

She was not alone, but was accompanied by a male figure whose arm she had evidently just dislodged from her waist.

He was still trying to resume his lost vantage; she was as resolutely evading him with a certain nymph-like agility, while the sound of her half-laughing, half-irate protest could be faintly heard.