"They won't know," said Evan, reassuringly.
"It would hurt your business, Mr. Nelson, wouldn't it?"
The sweet face was turned up to him. There was the confidence of innocence in her eyes. Fate had denied the lonely bankclerk a trip home, but it had placed a pair of baby lips within easy reach. He gazed, flushed—and kissed Lily. She trembled and the tears came into her blue eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Nelson!" she cried, crimson with excitement and pleasure.
He drew away, feeling ashamed and guilty. His embarrassment was ten-fold greater than the girl's: she was acting consistently with her childish fancies of the past few months, while Evan was betraying a girl in Hometon.
Beginning to realize the futility of waiting at the bank door, the farmer dragged himself away, muttering anathemas on high collars and patent locks.
"Here's your mucilage," said Evan, handing Lily a small bottle. "Don't get it on your clothes."
He uttered the last sentence for want of something to say.
"You must think I'm a regular baby," she replied, with a touch of scorn. When a young girl has just been kissed by a young man she wants him to understand she is a woman, full-grown.
Evan laughed and said she was anything but a baby.