"Hogs. There were two. They'd weigh three hundred apiece. It was quite a busy season, trying out and all, and no time for her to be away."
It was irresistible. They both laughed. They had been dowering her with the grace of Helen, and now she stood before them inexorably bent on trying out.
"I gather," said Nan, rather drily, "you're going over to see her yourself."
"Yes," said Raven. "But not till I've seen you. You ran away from Milly. Now Milly's gone, and you're coming back."
Her eyes roved from him to the steadfast green of the slope across the road. She was moved. Her mouth twitched at the tight corners, her eyes kindled.
"It would be fun," said she.
"Besides, think how silly to keep Charlotte provisioning you and tugging over to spend nights, poor Charlotte!"
"I really stayed," said Nan, temporizing, "for this Tira of yours—and Tenney's."
This form of statement sounded malicious to her own ears, but not to his. Sometimes Nan wished he were not quite so "simple honest." It was, she suspected, the woman's part—her own—to be unsuspecting and obstinately good.
"But if," she continued, "she won't have anything to do with you, I might as well go back to town."