The young man searched for his hat.
“I don’t need any company,” repeated the girl. She passed quickly from the open door and vanished.
George stood up, gazing after her light flickering on the path. He had found his hat and was twirling it in stiff slow fingers.
“Run along, George,” said Uncle William kindly. “You can ketch her, easy.”
“I don’t run after any girl,” said George. There was a deep glint in his eye.
Uncle William looked at it and then at the lantern, flicking and dancing on the path. He stepped to the door. “O-ho! Celia!” he called sternly.
The light wavered a little and paused and danced.... Then it went on.
Uncle William stepped out into the night. “Cel-i-a!” he called and his big voice boomed over the rocks. The lantern stopped. It came back—with little wavering steps and halted before him.
“What ’d you go running off like that for?”
Her face, above the lantern, was demure. “I didn’t run,” she said.