“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.”