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"Be yourself, Lily," said Posco. "They'll love you more if you are presented to them as your honest self, not as a shadow trying to conform to what it thinks they would like best." Her face seemed a little cleared of worries at this, and she smiled at him as she put aside her plate. She had finished her supper, and so had he. The evening shadows were beginning to fall, and each moment brought morning closer. Was it not wonderful that he would escort her to his home, and bid farewell to her only when she went on from Buckland! Morning was not a dreaded thing now, for it did not bring their separation closer.
He stood, and went to her to pull her chair out from the table. Gallantly, and with a smile, he offered her his arm, and she took it, her smiled pleased but her face wondering, for this was not at all like the shy hobbit lad of only several days previous. He felt as though he would always be shy, but in her presence he could not be anything but open and honest, for he had no fear of speaking in her presence. He led her to the door, his face calm, but his heart in turmoil, for he wondered if Tommy Banks would be the hobbit to always have her upon his arm, smiling up at him with love and tenderness. Posco hoped with all his heart that she would come back to him, but he would not say anything, for he did not want to influence her, but let her choose honestly.
They went out into the cool evening air, and Lily's face fell when she saw they were going to the stable. Posco saddled his pony and led him out, and they stood in the fast-fading light, both unheeding of the chill wind that swept over the rolling hills. "I must return to my aunt now, Lily," said Posco, simply, "but I will be here in the morning to bring you home." He bent, and he kissed her hand, hoping it was not too bold a thing to do. "Good-night, my Lily of the valley."
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