Louise had decided that she would perform the courageous act that had for weeks been in her mind.  She was convinced that John Hardy had concealed himself in the orchard beneath her window and she was determined to find him and tell him that she wanted him to come close to her, to hold her in his arms, to tell her of his thoughts and dreams and to listen while she told him her thoughts and dreams.  “In the darkness it will be easier to say things,” she whispered to herself, as she stood in the little room groping for the door.

And then suddenly Louise realized that she was not alone in the house.  In the parlor on the other side of the door a man’s voice spoke softly and the door opened.  Louise just had time to conceal herself in a little opening beneath the stairway when Mary Hardy, accompanied by her young man, came into the little dark room.

For an hour Louise sat on the floor in the darkness and listened.  Without words Mary Hardy, with the aid of the man who had come to spend the evening with her, brought to the country girl a knowledge of men and women.  Putting her head down until she was curled into a little ball she lay perfectly still.  It seemed to her that by some strange impulse of the gods, a great gift had been brought to Mary Hardy and she could not understand the older woman’s determined protest.

The young man took Mary Hardy into his arms and kissed her.  When she struggled and laughed, he but held her the more tightly.  For an hour the contest between them went on and then they went back into the parlor and Louise escaped up the stairs.  “I hope you were quiet out there.  You must not disturb the little mouse at her studies,” she heard Harriet saying to her sister as she stood by her own door in the hallway above.

Louise wrote a note to John Hardy and late that night, when all in the house were asleep, she crept downstairs and slipped it under his door.  She was afraid that if she did not do the thing at once her courage would fail.  In the note she tried to be quite definite about what she wanted.  “I want someone to love me and I want to love someone,” she wrote.  “If you are the one for me I want you to come into the orchard at night and make a noise under my window.  It will be easy for me to crawl down over the shed and come to you.  I am thinking about it all the time, so if you are to come at all you must come soon.”

For a long time Louise did not know what would be the outcome of her bold attempt to secure for herself a lover.  In a way she still did not know whether or not she wanted him to come.  Sometimes it seemed to her that to be held tightly and kissed was the whole secret of life, and then a new impulse came and she was terribly afraid.  The age-old woman’s desire to be possessed had taken possession of her, but so vague was her notion of life that it seemed to her just the touch of John Hardy’s hand upon her own hand would satisfy.  She wondered if he