"
"Story! Well, never mind: we _did_ quarrel. And you were miserable
directly."
"Not so very," said Compton, tossing his head.
"I _was,_ then," said Ruperta, with unguarded candor.
"So was I."
"Good boy! Kiss me, dear."
"There--and there--and there--and--"
"That will do. I want to talk, Compton."
"Yes, dear."
"I'm not very sure, but I rather think I'm in love with you--a little,
little bit, you know."
"And I'm sure I'm in love with you, Ruperta."
"Over head an' ears?"
"Yes."
"Then I love you to distraction. Bother the gate! If it wasn't for
that, I could run in the meadow with you; and marry you perhaps, and so
gather cowslips together for ever and ever."
"Let us open it."
"You can't."
"Let us try."
"I have. It won't be opened."
"Let _me_ try. Some gates want to be lifted up a little, and then they
will open. There, I told you so."
The gate came open.
Ruperta uttered an exclamation of delight, and then drew back.
"I'm afraid, Compton," said she, "papa would be angry,"
She wanted Compton to tempt her; but that young gentleman, having a
strong sense of filial duty, omitted so to do.
When she saw he would not persuade her, she dispensed. "Come along,"
said she, "if it is only for five minutes."
She took his hand, and away they scampered.
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