Della was looking from the window when Chip rode up the hill upon the “coulee trail,” which passed close by the house. She was tired of the platitudes of Dunk, who, trying to be both original and polished, fell far short of being either and only succeeded in being extremely tiresome.
“Where's Chip going, J. G.?” she demanded, in a proprietary tone.
“Down t' Benson's after a horse.” J. G. spoke lazily, without taking his pipe from his mouth.
“Oh, I wish I could go—I wonder if he'd care.” The Little Doctor spoke impulsively as was her habit.
“'Course he wouldn't. Hey, Chip! Hold on a minute!” The Old Man stood waving his pipe in the doorway.
Chip jerked his horse to a stand-still and half turned in the saddle.
“What?”
“Dell wants t' go along. Will yuh saddle up Concho for 'er? There's no hurry, anyhow, you've got plenty uh time. Dell's afraid one uh the kids might fall downstairs ag'in, and she'd miss the case.”
“I'm not, either,” said the Little Doctor, coming to stand by her brother; “it's too nice a day to stay inside, and my muscles ache for a gallop over the hills.”
Chip did not look up at her; he did not dare. He felt that, if he met her eyes—with the laugh in them—he should do one of two undesirable things: he should either smile back at her, weakly overlooking the hypocrisy of her friendliness, or sneer in answer to her smile, which would be very rude and ungentlemanly.