She had a white kitten that she put pendant earrings on. It clawed at my pants leg and nipped my knuckles and the jewelry waggled from its ears and we spent more time than necessary being amused. Then the kitten got bored with the taste of my fingers and pawed at something under the piano and I said, “I’m supposed to ask you to go with Amos Burton in a schooner and meet Bob and Eugenia and me, thence to Joplin and a boat south, posing as immigrants.”

I think she listened twice to every word. Her face was pained and touched and worried and in love, all at once.

I said, “I’m supposed to ask you to elope.”

She shook her head. “But you’re not going to ask me that, are you. You won’t want to hear me say no to you so you won’t even venture the question.”

I don’t know what I did then. Maybe I was nervous with my hands. I said, “No. I reckon I’ll be too flummoxed and shy.”

We walked outside and she sat in the swing and we were quiet together for a long time, watching clouds devour and relinquish the moon. I said, “I never wanted it to happen this way. I wanted to stop it a long time ago. I guess one thing just led to another. It’s like I fell into a river.” I threw a stick. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it.”

She leaned on the ropes of the swing. “No. I suppose that’s exactly what it is like.”

“I’m twenty years old, Julia. I got everything still in front of me. There’s a little something I have to do yet, but then I’m going to say good-bye to the past and start my life all over again. And it would truly choke me up if you’d consent to be my company. You don’t have to say anything now. You can just send one word to the telegraph office in Joplin: Yes or No; that’s it.”

We strolled around to the backyard where one of the boarders sat with Mrs. Johnson and Bob was smelling the sweet William while they talked about the water on the moon. I shook hands with Julia’s mother but I was sour-faced over my smile, and the man who called her Daughter glowered with suspicion as Julia linked her arm with mine and walked me slowly to my horse. I kissed her cheek and she hugged me and cried into my coat, “I don’t want you to leave.”