That moment the cow, impatient for notice, came up to her, lowing softly, and dropping foamy grass from her mouth. Usually it had been the girl's habit to plant her foot upon the grass and sit upon the heel as she milked; but all at once she became ashamed of this rough method, and looked around for something to sit upon. The garden wall had broken loose in places. The young man brought a fragment of rock from it and dropped it on the ground.
As she seated herself, slanting the pail down before her, he took up the mug from the grass where she had dropped it.
"I must have my pay first," he said, stooping down, and holding the mug to be filled.
The soft sound of the milk, as it frothed into the mug, was overpowered by the laughter of the girl, who saucily turned the white stream on his hand.
He laughed also, and shook off the drops, while the foam trembled on his lips; then he bent down again, asking for more. Thus, with his eyes meeting hers if she looked up, and his breath floating across her cheek, this girl went on with her task, wondering in her heart why work could all at once have become so pleasant.
"There," she said at last, starting up from her hard seat, "that is done. Now she may go back to her pasture."
As if she understood the words, that mild cow walked slowly away, cropping a tuft of violets that grew by the stone fence as she went.
Storms reached out his hand for the pail.
"Shall I help you?"
"No, thank you," she answered, turning her black eyes, full of mischief, upon him. "I can do very well without."