"Well, it's better to know the truth and face it, isn't it?" Alec asked, as if rather resenting her tone.
"Yes, but—I can't see how you can speak so lightly about it. It's so dreadfully—serious."
"Lightly?" echoed Alec. "You're mistaken, Blue Bonnet. I know it's a mighty serious business for me. Why, if I could view it lightly, I could sit down and write Grandfather about it this very minute—"
"Well, if you don't, I'm going to!" she declared.
"Will you? Oh, Blue Bonnet, that's just what I've been hoping you'd do!" The relief in Alec's tone was unmistakable. "He's mighty fond of you, and I'm sure he'd consider that it came better from you than from me. And it will be a lot easier for you to do it, under the circumstances."
Easier! Blue Bonnet bent hastily and put Texas back in the bunny-house so that Alec might not see her face. If he had not been absorbed in his own thoughts he must have seen what a shock his words had been to her. It was so unlike Alec to put upon a girl a task he felt too hard for himself,—a sort of cowardice of which she would never have believed him capable. It took her some seconds to steady her voice before she could answer:
"You're a trump, Blue Bonnet! I seem to get deeper and deeper into your debt," he said earnestly.
Blue Bonnet fastened the little door of the rabbit-hutch, leaving Texas and Massachusetts to one of their frequent naps, and then walked back to the house in silence. Alec, observing her, believed her to be composing her letter to the General.
"The first of August to-day, just think how our summer is flying!" remarked Amanda next morning.