"You had better stop now and go home."
She looked down at the ground and added:
"Please, please, don't tell on me."
"Of course not," he answered. "But I hope you won't be afraid of me any more."
She looked up at him with a little smile. "Do you think I'm afraid of you?" she asked as if it were too absurd to be thought of. She unhitched and mounted her pony but did not go.
"I do wish you could raise a mustache," she said, looking wistfully into his face.
Involuntarily his hand went to his lip.
"I could try," he said.
"I can't bear to see you look so terribly young; you get worse and worse every time I see you," she scolded plaintively. "I want you to be a regular man right quick."
He wondered what he ought to say and presently stammered: "I—I—intend to. I guess I'm more of a man than anybody would think to look at me."