It came to him as a great surprise. She, too, knelt at the stream, splashing the cool water, bathing her face, wetting the dark, gold-tinted locks and brushing them back. Curiously and absorbingly Adam gazed at her, with eyes from which some blinding shutter had fallen. Yes, she was beautiful. It seemed a simple fact that he had overlooked, yet it was amazing. It distracted him.
“Wanny, you’re all eyes,” cried Genie, gayly. “What’s the matter with me? Why do you look so?”
“Genie, you’re growing up,” he replied, soberly.
“Well, you’d have known that before if you’d seen me sewing,” she said.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Guess I’m nearly seventeen,” she said, and the words brought back the dreams.
“Why, you’re a young lady!” ejaculated Adam. “And—and——” He had been about to add that she was beautiful, but he held his tongue.
“I guess that, too.... Hold out your arm.”
Adam complied, and was further amazed to see, as she walked under his outstretched arm, that the glossy, wavy crown of her head almost touched it. She was as tall and slim and graceful as an arrowweed.
“There! I’ll have you know you’re a mighty big man,” she said. “And if you weren’t so big I’d come clear up to your shoulder.”