"How could you get here, Evan?" she asked, looking up at him.
"I must, I had only to-night."
"You are not wet?"
"No, darling! Rain is nothing to me. How are you? and how is your mother?"
"She is better. She is getting well."
"And you? You are most like a magnolia tree, full of its white magnificent blossoms; sweet in a kind of wealth of sweetness and bountiful beauty. One blossom would do for a comparison for ordinary women; but you are like the whole tree."
"Suppose I were to find comparisons for you?"
"Ay, suppose you did. What would you liken me to?" said he with a sparkle of the eyes, which quite indisposed Diana from giving any more fuel to the fire that supplied it.
"What, Di? You might as well give me all the comfort you can to take away with me. I shall need it. And it will be long before I can come back for more. What am I like?"
"Would you feel any better for thinking yourself like a pine tree? or a green hemlock? one of those up in our ravine of the brook?"