`` Now , do n't fight , '' implored Cecily . `` Who 's fighting ? '' demanded Dan . `` Felicity thinks she can say anything she likes to me , but I 'll show her different . '' Probably , in spite of Cecily 's efforts , a bitter spat would have resulted between Dan and Felicity , had not a diversion been effected at that moment by the Story Girl , who came slowly down Uncle Stephen 's Walk . `` Just look how the Story Girl has got herself up ! '' said Felicity . `` Why , she 's no more than decent ! '' The Story Girl was barefooted and barearmed , having rolled the sleeves of her pink gingham up to her shoulders . Around her waist was twisted a girdle of the blood-red roses that bloomed in Aunt Olivia 's garden ; on her sleek curls she wore a chaplet of them ; and her hands were full of them . She paused under the outmost tree , in a golden-green gloom , and laughed at us over a big branch . Her wild , subtle , nameless charm clothed her as with a garment . We always remembered the picture she made there ; and in later days when we read Tennyson 's poems at a college desk , we knew exactly how an oread , peering through the green leaves on some haunted knoll of many fountained Ida , must look . `` Felicity , '' said the Story Girl reproachfully , `` what have you been doing to Peter ? He 's up there sulking in the granary , and he wo n't come down , and he says it 's your fault . You must have hurt his feelings dreadfully . '' `` I do n't know about his feelings , '' said Felicity , with an angry toss of her shining head , `` but I guess I made his ears tingle all right . I boxed them both good and hard . '' `` Oh , Felicity ! What for ? ''
`` Well , he tried XXXXX kiss me , that 's what for ! ''
Around at for in of over than to under with