“Oh, mother doesn’t try to be pleasant about it. She makes my life a burden by harping on my undutifulness and all that,—and when she isn’t bally-ragging me, Kate is.”
“Kate! A servant!”
“But Kate doesn’t look upon herself as a servant, exactly. She’s lady’s maid now,—to mother and me,—but she was my nurse, you know, and she thinks she sort of owns me. Anyway, she acts so.”
“And she stands for the feud?”
“Rath-er! She believes in the feud and all its works. And she’s a spy, too. If she hadn’t believed my yarn that I was headed for Janet’s to-day, she’d been downstairs trailing me!”
“Clever Dork, to outwit her!”
“That’s nothing—I’m clever enough to hoodwink her and mother, too, but I don’t want to. I hate it, Rick; I hate anything underhanded or deceitful. Only my love for you made me come out here to-day.”
The big, dark eyes looked wistfully into Bates’ blue ones. The troubled look on Dorcas’ dear little face stirred the depths of his soul, and his heart struggled between his appreciation of her high-mindedness and his yearning love.
“I want you, Dorrie,” he said, simply; “I want you terribly,—desperately,—and I—I admit it—would be willing to take you on any terms. I’d run away with you in a minute, if you’d go! To be sure, I honor your truthfulness and all that,—but, oh, little girl, can’t you put me ahead of your mother?”
“I don’t know,——”