Then he turned and stood looking at the girl before him.

It seemed to him that he had never seen her so grown-up and so beautiful.
"Say, Carlia, when did you grow up ?" he asked.
"While you have been away growing up too." "It's the long dress, isn't it ?" "And milking cows and feeding pigs and pitching hay." She gave a toss to her head and held out her roughened red hands as proof of her assertion.
He stepped closer to her as if to examine them more carefully, but she swiftly hid them behind her back.

The rose, loosened from the tossing head, fell to the floor, and Dorian picked it up.

He sniffed at it then handed it to her.
"Where did you get it ?" he asked.
She reddened.

"None of your--Say, sit down, can't you." Dorian seated himself on the sofa and invited her to sit by him, but she took a chair by the table.
"You're not very neighborly," he said.
"As neighborly as you are," she retorted.
"What's the matter with you, Carlia ?" "Nothing the matter with me.