"Thank you very much. Thank you very much, indeed, Webster!"
The tide of feeling began to rush toward her:
"There are some wild violets over there, Elinor, wild blue violets and wild white violets—thick beds of them in the shade."
"Oh, how lovely!" She clasped her hands and knotted them tensely under her chin and kept her eyes fixed more hopefully on him.
"There is a flock of the funniest little fairies dancing under one of the big forest trees, each carrying the queerest little green parasol."
"How perfectly, perfectly lovely!"
"And I found one little cedar tree. If they'll let us, I'll dig it up and bring it home and plant it in the front yard. It will be your own cedar tree, Elinor."
"Oh, Webster! Could anything be more lovely of you?"
"You and I and Jenny will go some day soon—"
"No, no, no!" cried Elinor, stamping her feet fiercely and wringing her hands. "I don't want Jenny to go! I won't have Jenny! Just you and I! Not Jenny! Just you and I!"