Miss Mayfield counted the money gravely, and placed it in her portemonnaie with a snap.
Certain qualities affect certain natures. This practical business act of the diminutive beauty before him—albeit he was just ten dollars out of pocket by it—struck the official into helpless admiration. He hesitated.
“That's all,” said Miss Mayfield coolly; “you need not wait. The letter was only an excuse to get Mr. Briggs out of the way.”
“I understand ye, miss.” He hesitated still. “Do you reckon to stop in these parts long?”
“I don't know.”
“'Cause ye ought to come down some day to the Forks.”
“Yes.”
“Good morning, miss.”
“Good morning.”
Yet at the corner of the house the rascal turned and looked back at the little figure in the sunlight. He had just been physically overcome by a younger man—he had lost ten dollars—he had a wife and three children. He forgot all this. He had been captivated by Miss Mayfield!