“I wasn’t very decent to you that day, was I? And I was beastly to her.”
“I think she was sorry,” said Peter softly. “I wish you’d let her——. Does she never come here now?”
The Faun Man leant forward across the table, with his face between his long brown hands. “Did you like her, Peter?”
“Yes.”
“Very much?”
Peter lowered his eyes. “Very much.”
When he dared to glance up, he found that the Faun Man wasn’t laughing. He reached out his hand to Peter. “You’re young,” he said. “Fifteen, isn’t it? Well, she’s a year older. It’s dangerous to like a girl very much—especially a little wild thing like Cherry. I’m a man and I know, because I, too, like some one very much; and it doesn’t always make me happy. You’ll like heaps of girls, Peter, before you find the right one.” He felt that Peter’s hand had grown smaller in his own and was withdrawing. “You think it isn’t true?” he questioned. “You think it wasn’t kind of me to say that? And you want to see her?” Peter gazed out of the cottage window to where sunlight fell aslant the Haunted Wood. Why should he want to see her more than anyone in the world? But he did. And he knew that because he was so young, most people would consider his desire absurd. But the Faun Man, who found so much to laugh at, was regarding him seriously. “And you want to see her?”
Peter whispered, “Yes.”
The Faun Man’s eyes filmed over in that curious way they had. He said: “I want you to trust me. There are reasons why you can’t see her. I’ve sent her away because I think that it’s best. I can’t tell you why or where I’ve sent her; or what right I have to send her. But I want you to know that I don’t smile at you for liking her. It doesn’t matter how old or young we are; when love comes, it always hurts. And it seems just as serious whether it comes late or early. But some day I’ll let you see her. To you at fifteen, some day seems very far from now. But if you wait, and still think you care for her, I’ll let you see her when the time comes. I don’t think we ought to speak of this again till then. We’ll keep it a secret which we never discuss; but we’ll each remember. Is that a bargain?”
Peter had no other choice than to accept. They shook hands.