“But, confound it all,” cried Steve, “I’ve nothing to be forgiven for. She’s altogether wrong about what she blames me for.”
“The more reason for you to ask her to forgive you, then,” said Mrs. Dan, coolly. “If she thinks she has anything to forgive, she’ll be glad o’ the chance to show her generosity; and if she knows she hasn’t, she’ll be the more glad.”
Steve laughed. “You’re a philosopher, or a cynic, Mrs. Dan.”
“I’m both,” she said promptly. “I’m a woman, so I must be both the others—or a fool. The men don’t leave us any other choice nowadays.”
“That’s a nasty one on the men,” said Steve.
“It’s the truth, and that’s apt to be nasty on the men,” returned Mrs. Dan, and then after a little pause she went on more softly, “You got me a little angry, Steve, wi’ your foolishness. Only get a woman angry, and you’ll get the truth from her, if it’s nasty enough.” She crossed the room to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Promise me, Steve, you’ll give her a chance to make it up.”
“I’d make it up fast enough if I had a hint she was willing to,” said Steve, earnestly. “But she’d never make it up believing what she does of me. Well, I’ve been a fool often enough, and now I’m paying for it.”
“The worst of a man being a fool,” said Mrs. Dan, “is that other people that can’t help it have to pay for his foolishness as well. When will you see her again?”
“I’m going up to the Ridge to-day,” said Steve, evasively. Mrs. Dan had no hint who the girl was, and he did not mean to drag Ess into it if he could help it. “I must see poor old Aleck first thing. He’ll be expecting me.”
Steve rode over to the Ridge that night, and met with a boisterous welcome from the men who were in. He was in little mood for this, and cut it as short as he could by going off to see Aleck Gault, although it was with consternation that he heard Aleck was over at the house, and was being nursed by Ess.