He laughed a little, and turned the reins in his hands. He relished infinitely the sight of the red and angry spot on either cheek, the spark in her eye.
“I did,” he said jauntily, noting the effect of his words. “I seen Elviry.”
She made an effort at self-control.
“Waal,” she returned, calmly, although her voice trembled a little, “I hope ye kin agree with her better ’n ye ever done with me. We warn’t made fur one another, I reckon, no-ways.”
“Oh, I hain’t never axed Elviry; ’tain’t never gone ez fur ez that. I ’lowed ez mebbe ye an’ me mought make it up some day.”
He was only trying her, but the vaunted feminine intuition did not detect this. Her cheek crimsoned. Her eyes were full of liquid lights. She laughed, a low gurgling laugh of happiness, that, nevertheless, broke into a sob.
“I dunno ’bout that,” she said, evasively, belying the rapture in her face.
She was very beautiful at the moment A cultivated man, versed in the harmonies of line and color, tutored to discriminate expressions and gauge feelings and recognize types, might have perceived something innately noble in her, foolish though the affection was which embellished her.
Even he was impressed by it. “I hev never axed nobody but ye,” he said. “Not even arter we quar’led.”
He was not bound by this, which he knew full well, and it promised nothing. But it held her love and loyalty for him, if ever he should want them.