Round, and round ... In my head, too, words that had haunted me began to go round and round.
"Dick Holiday ... Richard Wynn ... Dick Wynn ... Richard Holiday..."
I thought, "Am I to let Captain Holiday know I've found out that he is Richard Wynn?"
My first answer to this question of my thoughts was a vigorous "Yes."
I decided, mentally, "Yes, I'll tell Captain Holiday that I know all about it. After all, he has been pulling my leg ever since I met him! All the time I've been on this farm he has known that I am Joan Matthews, the girl to whom he wrote that letter signed by his other name! And he's never allowed me to know that he was the man who wrote the letter. It will make him look awfully foolish when I tax him with it. Serve him right! I shall tell him, just to be able to have the laugh over him for once!"
And I went on churning after another glance at the little window; no sign of a crumb of butter on it yet. Patience! Churn away....
The butter wasn't coming; but a fresh thought came.
This was a "No" as vigorous as my "Yes" had been.
"No! I can't tell him," I mused. "If I did it would seem like reminding him that he did, under the name of Richard Wynn, ask me to marry him. It would seem as if I were dropping hints that he might try again. Begging him, now that I knew him, to ask me a second time. Oh! horrible thought. For it isn't me he wants to marry now. It must be since the Spring that he's fallen in love with his cousin. I'd far better go on, pretending not to know that he's ever been called anything but Holiday!"
Round and round ... Still no butter! Mrs. Price would say it was a sign that my sweetheart wasn't pleased. I, who had no sweetheart to please, must work patiently still....