a woman of middle stature,—a wide, comely space between the shoulder-blades, a trim waist, and the ankle of a racer. Marden noted all this calmly (as he would have studied the build of a ship), and contrasted her with the summer women from the city.
"They trail their feet," he thought ungallantly, "like the cows coming down the lane."
He was about to carry his fork and basket past her up the bank, when she turned.
"Hello," she said cheerily, flashing a pair of bold eyes on him. "You scairt me. I did n't hear you comin'."
"That's a lie," thought Marden; but he stopped and said quietly, "I'm sorry."
"Oh," she cried, "you don't need be so sorry as all that!" And at the sight of his solemn face she burst into loud but not unpleasant laughter.
Marden, completely at a loss, was silent; and while he groped for words, the woman watched him with the eyes of raillery. Her whole body, slight almost to thinness, trembled with active merriment. Her cheeks were
