She quickened her pace, that he might see how far she was from weariness.
“I’m sorry,” he said, humbly. “I didn’t mean to do anything to set you running off like that.”
No reply. They went on again in a silence that lasted for several moments.
“Ain’t you going to forgive me?” he asked, presently.
Helen considered; not what he had said however. She was more deeply interested in deciding why his “ain’t” was not offensive to her college-bred ears.
“After all,” she thought, deliberating it, “those things do not matter so much when people themselves are real.”
“I won’t do it again,” the voice beside her pleaded, in an exaggeration of penitence, and she laughed, looking up at him.
“I didn’t think you’d be such a hard-hearted little girl,” Gard said, reproachfully.
“I am not,” she replied. “I am only sensible. You should believe what people tell you.”
He made no reply. He was trying to decide how old the child could be.