“You look toppin’,” said Dolly, when he was ready to go. “Sort of got your shoulders back, and your chin up, and a spark in your eye. Feel all right? Can you say toorilooral—I mean toolitrooral—toolri—I say,” he broke off in dismay, “I’m afraid I’m not as all right myself as I thought. Tru—ly—ru—ral. Got ’im.”
“Truly rural. Got ’im,” said Steve, solemnly, but with his eyes twinkling, and marched off.
Mrs. Dan was rather a long time coming to answer his knock, but her welcome made up for that when she did let him in.
“Steve boy, it’s glad I am to see you. Come along in—and just sit a minute; I’m doing something, and won’t be a jiff.”
She went close and looked keenly at him when she came back to the room. “So ye kept sober after all, then. I’m glad, for I’m sorry enough to be losing you, and would have been sorrier if you hadn’t had sense to understand my good-bye.”
“I remembered that I’d be kissing you good-bye if Dan’s not looking,” said Steve, “and I couldn’t get the full pleasure of that if I wasn’t full sober.”
“When does the coach go?”
“They’re expecting one in from the north in two or three hours, and if it comes they’ll take the mails and go right on from here. But I didn’t quite come to say good-bye—yet. Whether I say it at all depends.”
Mrs. Dan jumped to her feet. “Steve, don’t tell me you’ve thought better and come to see her,” she said delightedly.
“I heard a chance word that made me think maybe I’d been wrong,” said Steve, gravely, “and I came to take a last chance, and maybe a last bitter speech to take with me——”