The girl thought it so wise that the Spawer had no alternative but to accept the cotton bobbin from her, a thing which his fingers (in their concern for her welfare) showed a certain disinclination to do.
"At least," said he, "you 'll let me see you back as far as Hesketh's corner?" But the girl said, "Oh no, please ... and thank you.... I 'm accustomed to walk alone," so once again he felt constrained to abide by her decision, not knowing how many secret considerations might have gone to the making of it.
"But ... look here," he said, in a conclusive spurt of candor, brought about by the imminence of their parting; "... we 're not saying good-by for good, are we?"
"I—I hope not," said the girl, and something stirred her lips and lashes as though a breeze had blown across them.
"Well, I hope not too," said the Spawer. "For that would make me feel sad. I must n't keep you any longer now, I know, for I don't want you to get into trouble; but it 's awfully good of you to have come, and believe me, I 'm really grateful. If there 's anything in music I can do for you, I want you to know that you 've only to ask, and it shall be done for you with pleasure. Honest Injun. You won't forget, will you?"
The girl said she could never forget ... his kindness.
"It 's a promise, then?" said the Spawer.
Again the little unseen breath blew across her features at the question, and to his surprise he could have almost sworn to tears upon her lashes when he looked up for affirmation in the girl's eyes. To cover any confusion that his words might have wrought, he put out a friendly hand for parting.
"All right," said he, in voice of cheerful agreement. "So that's settled," though a dozen questions were fighting for first place on his lips as he said it. The little brown hand stole for the second time into the shelter of his own with a solemnity that, at other moments, he could have laughed at, and a moment later the Spawer was left gazing at the orchard gate, thrown three quarters open, as he had done in that first memorable moment, with the girl's soft footsteps merged every second more deceptively in the starry stillness of night.
CHAPTER IV