And so Mildred had received the invitation that she was very welcome to come to Greenstreet and stay as long as she desired.  Very likely, she would be with them in a day or two, thought Dorian.  She would draw and paint, and then in the soft evening dusk she would play some of those exquisite melodies on her violin.  Mildred did not like people to speak of her beloved instrument as a fiddle, and he remembered how she had chastised him on one occasion for so doing.  Yes, she would again enter into their daily life.  Her ladylike ways, her sweet smile, her golden beauty would again glorify their humble home.  Why, if she came often enough and remained long enough, she might yet learn how to milk a cow, as she had threatened to do.  At the thought, the boy on the grass by the nodding horses, laughed up into the sky.  Dorian was happy; but whether he preferred the somewhat nervous happiness of Mildred’s presence or the quiet longing happiness of her absence, he could not tell.

The plain truth of the matter was, that Dorian had fallen deeply in love with Mildred.  This statement may be scoffed at by some people whose eyes have been dimmed by age so that they cannot see back into that time of youth when they also were “trailing clouds of glory” from their heavenly home.  There is nothing more wholesomely sweet than this first boy and girl affection.  It is clean and pure and undefiled by the many worldly elements which often enter into the more mature lovemaking.

Perhaps Mildred Brown’s entrance into Dorian’s life did not differ from like incidents in many lives, but to him it was something holy.  Dorian at this time never admitted to himself that he was in love with the girl.  He sensed very well that she was far above him in every way.  The thought that she might ever become his wife never obtained foothold in him more than for a fleeting moment:  that was impossible, then why think of it.  But there could be no harm in loving her as he loved his mother, or as he loved the flowers, the clear-flowing water, the warm sun and the blue sky.  He could at least cast adoring eyes up to her as he did to the stars at night.  He could also strive to rise to her level, if that were possible.  He was going to the High school the coming winter, then perhaps to the University.  He could get to know as much of school learning as she, anyway.  He never would become a painter of pictures or a musician, but surely there were other things which he could learn which would be worth while.

There came to Dorian that afternoon as he still lay on the grass, his one-time effort to ask a girl to a dance.  He recalled what care he had taken in washing and combing and dressing, how he had finally cut cross-lots to the girl’s home for fear of being seen, for surely he had thought, everybody must know what he was up to!—­how he had lingered about the back door, and had at last, when the door opened, scudded back home as fast as his legs could carry him!  And now, the finest girl he had ever seen was chumming with him, and he was not afraid, that is, not very much afraid.