“You be to eat ’em all,” reiterated Rebecca; “I’d like to watch ye.”
“Nay now, you must taste one,” said David, and leaning forward tenderly he endeavoured to force one into her mouth. But thereupon Rebecca set her little white teeth, jerked back her head, and uplifting a small but vigorous hand slapped his face with all her might.
“I won’t have ’em neither then!” cried he, flushing hotly and clambering to his feet. “You do go too far, you do.”
“I do go too far, do I?” retorted the freakish sprite. “Let’s go home then.”
Too much wounded to protest, David turned about and walked sulkily beside her as she tripped down the lane.
“A body never knows where to have ’ee, maidie,” he complained after a pause. “There’s times when you do seem so sweet as honey, and next minute I fair wonder if you do care a pin for me.”
The two were now walking under a hedge so tall that it almost arched over their heads; it grew on the summit of the high bank which bordered one side of the lane. A serried mass of greenery was this hedge; the star-like foliage of maple mingling with the rougher, darker green of hazel and guelder, while amid the stronger growths, delicate trailing wreaths of dog rose and sturdy bushes of wild sweetbriar flourished side by side. It was from this latter that the winding path took its name. The sweetbriar, indeed, grew so freely about the place that in the summer time all the air was filled with fragrance.
Rebecca seemed not at all moved by her lover’s lament; she gave a little laugh and continued the song she had been humming to herself.
“There’s times,” continued David warmly, “when I do truly think I’d do better to go off and coort some other maid.”
“Well, and why don’t ye?” inquired Rebecca blithely.