That gate was his back door through the
woods to town. His wheel used to lean against this tree. I miss his fair
head in the sun, and his white trousers springing up the hill. But one
cannot keep one's boy forever. You have made him a man, my dear."
The mother put out her hand timidly. She had ventured on forbidden ground
once more. But she was not rebuffed. The girl's hand clasped hers and
drew it around a slender waist, and they walked like two school friends
together.
"I cannot support the idea that you will never come again," mourned the
elder. "It is years since I have known a girl like you--a girl who can say
things. I can make no headway with girls in general. They are so big and
silent and athletic. They wear pins and badges, and belong to more _things_
than I have ever heard of!"
Miss Benedet laughed. "I am silent, too, sometimes," she said.
"But you are not dense!"
"I'm afraid you go very much to extremes in your likes and dislikes, dear
lady, and you are much younger than I, you know."
"I am quite aware of that," said Mrs. Thorne. "You have had seven years of
Europe to my twenty of Cathay."
"Dear Cathay!" the girl murmured, with moist eyes; "I could live in this
place forever.
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