"The bump on your head has had a relapse.

Better let Johnny go for the doctor again." "I know I'm infernally presumptuous," acknowledged Philip flushing, "but I'm terribly in earnest." Diane's eyes, wide, black, rebuking, scanned his troubled face askance.
"I ought to be exceedingly angry," she said slowly, "and if it wasn't for the bump, like as not I would be--but I'm not." "I'm truly grateful," said Philip with a sigh of relief.

And added to himself, "Philip, old top, you're in for it." "Why," exclaimed Diane, "I've never been so happy in my life as I have been here by this beautiful river!" "Nor I!" said Philip truthfully.
Diane did not hear.
"Every wild thing calls," she went on, impetuously.

"It always has.
Fish--bird--wild flower--the smell of clover--the hum of bees--I can't pretend to tell you what they all mean to me.

Even as a youngster I frightened my aunt half to death by running away to sleep in the forest.