It made me rub my lips, it tickled so.  Hildreth noticed it.

“Wait,” she bade playfully, “I’ll bet I can make you rub your lips again.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Hold still!” she leaned toward me; I could look down into her bosom.  She just touched my lips with her forefinger.

“Now!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

“—­think you’ve tickled me, do you?”

“—­just wait!”

I forgot myself.  My lips tickled and I rubbed them with the length of a finger ...  Hildreth laughed....

“Hildreth!”

I leaned toward my friend’s wife, calling her again by her first name.

I lay in a half-reclining posture, my head almost against her hip.  I was looking up into her face.  She glanced down at me with a quick start at the tone of my voice.  She looked gravely for a moment into my face.  I observed an enigmatic something deep in her eyes ... which sank slowly back as the image of a face does, in water,—­as the face itself is withdrawn.  She moved apart a little, with a motion of slow deliberation.

“Hildreth!” I heard myself calling again, with a deep voice, a voice that sounded alien in my own ears....

“Come, boy!” and she pulled back her hand from my grasp, and catching mine in hers a moment, patted the back of it lightly—­“come, don’t let’s be foolish ... we’ve had such a happy afternoon together, don’t let’s spoil it ... now let’s start home.”

As soon as I was on my feet and away from her, she became playful again.  She reached up her hand for me.

“Help me up!”

I brought her to her feet with a strong, quick pull, and against my breast.  But I did not dare do what I desired—­take her in my arms and try to kiss her.  She paused a second, then thrust me back.

“Look, the sun’s almost gone down ... and Mubby and Darrie will be home a long time by this time ... and Mubby will be getting fidgety.”

The sun’s last huge shoulder of red was hulking like a spy behind a distant, bare knoll ... separate blades of grass stood up in microscopic yet giant distinctness, against its crimson background.

Our walk home was a silent, passively happy one that went without incident....

* * * * *

Penton and Darrie were indeed home before us.

“Where have you two been all this time,” Penton asked, a slight touch of querulousness in his voice.

“Oh, Johnnie and I have been out for a walk, too!” replied Hildreth in an even voice.

* * * * *

At lunch, the next day,—­a day when Penton was called in to Philadelphia on business—­while Darrie, Ruth, Hildreth and I sat talking together peacefully about our outdoor board, Hildreth suddenly threw a third of a glass of milk on Darrie’s shirt-waist front.

We were astounded.

“Why, Hildreth, what does this mean?” I asked.