"I can hear Adam barking," said Lydia. "Dad must have come home. Take me back, Billy."
"All right," replied Billy. "I will just as soon as you tell me something."
Lydia looked up into his face. "Not that just yet, please, Billy. I must make things right with Dad and Kent."
Billy seized her shoulders. "Is there anything between you and Kent,
Lydia?" he said, jealously.
"Not in words," she answered, "but of course he's gone ahead with my land deal, with the idea he'd share in it."
Billy's hands tightened on her shoulders. "Dear," Lydia went on pleadingly, "don't spoil this perfect moment. We must have this, always, no matter what comes."
"Nothing can come," replied Billy sternly. "Give me your hand, little girl. It's getting cold in these woods."
They walked back to the cottage in silence, hand in hand. They paused at the gate and Lydia pointed through the dusk at the new moon.
"Let's wish on it," she said. "Close your eyes, and wish."
Billy closed his eyes. A kiss as soft as the robin's note fell on his lips and the gate clicked. He opened his eyes and stood looking up the path long after the door closed, his hat in his hand.