"Remember? You silly, silly boy, if we should not forget how ever could we fail to remember?"
"Don't laugh at me, Greeba; and promise me one thing," and then he whispered in her ear.
She sprang away and laughed once more, and started to run down the path. But in three strides he had her again.
"That will not do for me, Greeba," he said breathing fast. "Promise me that you will wait for me."
"Well," she said softly, her dark eyes full of merriment, "I'll promise that while you are away no one else shall spoil me. There! Good-bye!"
She was tearing herself out of his hands.
"First give me a token," he said.
Daffodils lined the path, though in the dusk he could not see them. But she knew they were there, and stopped and plucked two, blew upon both, gave one to him, and put the other into the folds at her bosom.
"Good-bye! Good-bye!" she said in an under-breath.
"Good-bye!" he answered.