"That if you could write verses, songs."
She asked it in all simplicity.
"No, I couldn't;" in the frankest of tones.
"One must know a good deal."
"And be a genius beside."
"What queer names they give the girls. Chloe, that isn't a bit pretty, and Phyllis, that is a slave name. And Lesbia, that isn't so bad."
"I think I have found Daffodil among them. And that is beautiful."
"Do you think so?" She could not tell why she was glad, but he saw it in her face, and what a sweet face it was! He wondered then how such a fascinating bit of sweetness and innocence could have kept its charm in this rather rough soil. Her frankness was fascinating.
"Do you come here often?" he asked presently.
"Oh, yes, in the summer."