“That would be to my pleasure and advantage. I will call on you and talk over the matter, at any time you desire.”
“Well and good! Say tomorrow at two o’clock.”
“Three o’clock would be better for me.”
“So, let it be.” Then he took Sunna’s hand and she understood that her walk with Grant was over. She thanked Max for his courtesy, sent a message to Eric, and then said her good night with a look into his eyes which dirled in his heart for hours afterwards. Some compliments passed 160 between the men and then she found herself walking home with her grandfather.
“Thou ought not to have seen me, Grandfather,” she said a little crossly, “I was having such a lovely walk.”
“I did not want to see thee, and have I not arranged for thee something a great deal better on tomorrow’s afternoon?”
“One never knows–––”
“Listen; he is to come at three o’clock, it will be thy fault if he leaves at four. Thou can make tea for him––thou can walk in the greenhouse and the garden with him, thou can sing for him––no, let him sing for thee––thou can ask him to help thee with ‘The Banded Men’––and if he goes away before eight o’clock I will say to thee––‘take the first man that asks thee for thou hast no woman-witchery with which to pick and choose!’ Grant is a fine man. If thou can win him, thou wins something worth while. He has always held himself apart. His father was much like him. All of them soldiers and proud as men are made, these confounded, democratic days.”
“And what of Boris?” asked Sunna.
“May Boris rest wherever he is! Thou could not compare Boris with Maximus Grant.”