"Tush, no! I'll permit you to do nothing of the kind," said he, driving a fly from his horse's ear. "Don't you know, you young idiot, that between a man surrendering his love, and a woman surrendering hers, there's difference enough to account for tears? A man gives his and gets it back with compound interest in coin that's pure gold compared to his copper. A woman gives hers and gets back——" the priest stopped.
"What?" I asked, interest getting the better of wounded pride.
"Not much that's worth having from idiots like you," said he; by which the priest proved he could deal honestly by a friend, without any mincing palliatives.
His answer set me thinking for the best part of the afternoon; and I warrant if any man sets out with the priest's premises and thinks hard for an afternoon he will come to the same conclusion that I did.
"Let's both poke along a little faster," said I, after long silence.
"Oho! With all my heart!" And we caught up with Frances Sutherland and for the first time that day I dared to look at her face. If there were tear marks about the wondrous eyes, they were the marks of the shower after a sun-burst, the laughing gladness of life in golden light, the joyous calm of washed air when a storm has cleared away turbulence. Why did she evade me and turn altogether to the priest at her right? Had I been of an analytical turn of mind, I might, perhaps, have made a very careful study of an emotion commonly called jealousy; but, when one's heart beats fast, one's thoughts throng too swiftly for introspection. Was I a part of the new happiness? I did not understand human nature then as I understand it now, else would I have known that fair eyes turn away to hide what they dare not reveal. I prided myself that I was now well in hand. I should take the first opportunity to undo my folly of the night before.
It was after supper. Father Holland had gone to his tent. Frances Sutherland was arranging a bunch of flowers in her lap; and I took my place directly behind her lest my face should tell truth while my tongue uttered lies.
"Speaking of stars, you know Miss Sutherland," I began, remembering that I had said something about stars that must be unsaid.
"Don't call me Miss Sutherland, Rufus," she said, and that gentle answer knocked my grand resolution clean to the four winds.