"Now I look at you again, you seem to be a gentleman.

Are you one ?" "I hope so." "Then you're not making game of me ?" "My dear, I am only trying if you can remember Gerard Roylake." While in charge of the boat, the miller's daughter had been rowing with bared arms; beautiful dusky arms, at once delicate and strong.

Thus far, she had forgotten to cover them up.

The moment mentioned my name, she started back as if I had frightened her--pulled her sleeves down in a hurry--and hid the objects of my admiration as an act of homage to myself! Her verbal apologies followed.
"You used to be such a sweet-spoken pretty little boy," she said, "how should I know you again, with a big voice and all that hair on your face ?" It seemed to strike her on a sudden that she had been too familiar.

"Oh, Lord," I heard her say to herself, "half the county belongs to him!" She tried another apology, and hit this time on the conventional form.