“Did you ever do anything to prove it?”
“Set me something and see if I don’t do it.”
“Then you haven’t done anything yet?”
“I don’t know. I’ve done what I could.”
“How about this?” She pulled a little crumpled sprig of dog-rose, such as grows wild in the wayside hedges, out of her bosom. “Do you know anything of that?”
He smiled, and was about to answer, when his brows suddenly contracted, his mouth set, and his eyes flashed angrily as they focussed some distant object. Following his gaze, she saw a slim, dark figure, some three fields off, walking swiftly in their direction. “It’s my friend, Mr. Elias Mason,” said she.
“Your friend!” He had lost his diffidence in his anger. “I know all about that. What does he want here every second evening?”
“Perhaps he wonders what you want.”
“Does he? I wish he’d come and ask me. I’d let him see what I wanted. Quick too.”
“He can see it now. He has taken off his hat to me,” Dolly said, laughing.