Stephens looked at the pretty, animated, boyish face looking up at him
from under the coquettish straw hat, and he wished that he had the
courage to tell her in her own language that she was just too sweet for
anything. But he feared above all things lest he should offend her, and
so put an end to their present pleasant intimacy. So his compliment
dwindled into a smile.

"You look very happy," said he.

"Well, who could help feeling good with this dry, clear air, and the
blue sky, and the crisp yellow sand, and a superb donkey to carry you?
I've just got everything in the world to make me happy."

"Everything?"

"Well, everything I have any use for just now."

"I suppose you never know what it is to be sad?"

"Oh, when I _am_ miserable, I am just too miserable for words. I've sat
and cried for days and days at Smith's College, and the other girls were
just crazy to know what I was crying about, and guessing what the reason
was that I wouldn't tell them, when all the time the real true reason
was that I didn't know myself. You know how it comes like a great dark
shadow over you, and you don't know why or wherefore, but you've just
got to settle down to it and be miserable."

"But you never had any real cause?"