He followed her into the hum of friendly talk, and then across the lawn to the house, where the neighbors streamed in for tea. As for the young man, he had a great longing to say something more, but a feeling which was mingled of reverence for her youth and dread of frightening her by a premature declaration kept him silent. She did not understand the flutter, but somehow felt it right to fly from it, tripping back to the serenity of society on the lawn. Rose’s heart fluttered a little-a very little-with the softest preliminary sensations of mingled happiness and alarm. Imagination will play many a trick with me before I forget it,” said young Wodehouse in subdued tones.
