They might as well call you 'Water' at once." "But you said you liked it." "Well, so I do.

But don't you see--I--oh dear! you don't understand." Low did not reply, but turned his head with resigned gravity towards the deeper woods.

Grasping the barrel of his rifle with his left hand, he threw his right arm across his left wrist and leaned slightly upon it with the habitual ease of a Western hunter--doubly picturesque m his own lithe, youthful symmetry.

Miss Nellie looked at him from under her eyelids, and then half defiantly raised her head and her dark lashes.
Gradually an almost magical change came over her features; her eyes grew larger and more and more yearning, until they seemed to draw and absorb in their liquid depths the figure of the young man before her; her cold face broke into an ecstasy of light and color; her humid lips parted in a bright, welcoming smile, until, with an irresistible impulse, she arose, and throwing back her head stretched towards him two hands full of vague and trembling passion.
In another moment he had seized them, kissed them, and, as he drew her closer to his embrace, felt them tighten around his neck.

"But what name do you wish to call me ?" he asked, looking down into her eyes.
Miss Nellie murmured something confidentially to the third button of his hunting-shirt.