And she turned away homeward, holding her head very high in the air. She seemed to be biting her lips to keep back the tears which threatened to overflow her cheeks. But just as she was leaving the stile, curiously enough she cast sharply over her shoulder and all round her the quick shy look of a startled fawn—and stooped to the path. The next moment the bit of silver which had sparkled there was gone, and Cissy Carter, with eyes still moist, but with the sweetest and most wistful smile playing upon her face, was tripping homeward to Oaklands to the tune of "The Girl I left behind me," which she liked to whistle softly when she was sure no one was listening.
And at the end of every verse she gave a little skip, as if her heart were light within her.
Girls are funny things.
Transcriber's note:
Inconsistent and archaic spelling, syntax, and punctuation retained.