"I will when I am there, if I am able to pass the examinations."
"You will—you will. Uncle Jim told me you would pass easily."
"Indeed! He never told me that. I have my doubts."
"And I have none," she returned, smiling. "Mr. Rivers dislikes it. He wrote to me about it just before he left. Do you know, he did really think that you ought to be a clergyman. He said you were so serious-minded for—for a boy."
John laughed, "nice clergyman I'd have made." Did Leila too consider him a boy? "Oh! here we are at the old cabin. I never forget the first day we came here—and the graves. The older I grow, Leila, the more clearly I can see the fight and the rifle-flashes, and the rescue—and the night—I can feel their terror."
"Oh, we were mere children, John; and I do suppose that it is a pretty well decorated tradition." He looked at her with surprise, as she added, "I used to believe it all, now it seems strange to me, John—like a dream of childhood. I think you really are a good deal of a boy yet."
"No, I am not a boy. I sometimes fancy I never was a boy—I came here a child." And then, "I think you like to tease me, Leila," and this was true, although she was not pleased to be told so. "You think, Leila, that it teases me to be called a boy by your ladyship. I think it is because you remember what a boy once said to you here—right here."
"What do you mean?" She knew very well what he meant, but quickly repenting of her feminine fib, said, "Oh, I do know, but I wanted to forget—I wanted to pretend to forget, because you know what friends we have been, and it was really so foolish."
He had been lying at her feet; now he rose slowly. "You are not like my
Leila to-day."
"Oh, John!"