"I saw you going to the big tree", she explained, "so I comed too."
"Uh-huh," I commented cautiously, being gripped with a sudden sense that this young woman had led me into difficulties only a day ago. Men cannot be too careful.
She sidled toward me. "Do you know what you have to do for yesterday?" she queried.
"No," I said, with some misgiving, thinking that possibly my behavior had been reported to the Lanes to my disadvantage.
"Gwandma says when a young la-dy saves a young gen-tle-man, he-has-to-mawwy-her," she said, speaking very slowly at first, but finishing her sentence with a little run. "So you have to mawwy me."
She was beside me now, and her face was radiant with the excitement of her secret.
"But I can't marry you! Only grown-ups do that!" I protested.
"Won't we be gwown-ups some day?"
"I guess so," I admitted. And then with a sudden burst of resolution I added, "And then I'll marry you."
She held her face up to me and I leaned over and kissed it shyly. Then, hand in hand, we retraced our way down the cow-path, along the rows of sprouting corn, by the stables and past our house. Jean led me to her own home, which was next to ours, down the road.