"I wish we were never going back!" she said impulsively. "I hate it all! I wish we were going on and on—anywhere—but back—don't you?"
His eyes were upon her as she spoke, and he had no notion how they softened, while her color rose at something in his voice as he answered—
"I can imagine worse things in life than riding 'on and on' with Essie Tisdale. But"—his tone took on a new and vigorous inflection—"I want to go back. I want to stay. As a matter of fact I'm just getting interested in Crowheart."
She looked at him questioningly and then explained—
"It couldn't be, of course; I was only wishing, but you don't understand quite—about things."
He spoke promptly—
"I think I do—far better than you believe—and I've about made up my mind to take a hand myself. I cannot well be less chivalrous, less loyal than you."
She looked puzzled, but he did not explain that he had overheard her valiant defence of himself to old Edouard Dubois.
"You're not vindictive, are you?"
She shook her head.