"Did I? I haven't got over it yet. Somehow I feel as if it would be wrong to eat any canned goods for quite a while. A sort of uncomplimentary reflection on Bauer. I wouldn't have eaten so much only I didn't want to hurt his feelings by appearing not to appreciate his treat. Isn't he a fine fellow?"
"Yes," said Miss Gray. She did not seem very talkative and appeared very nervous for a young woman who had figured as a life saver on various occasions.
"I wish the Douglases had been here, don't you?" asked Clifford. He had his knife out and, Yankee-like, was busy shaving pieces off the old log. It seemed to help him in keeping up what seemed to promise to be a one-sided talk. "Yes. I—I've had a letter from Milton. Would you like to read it?"
"Sure. I always did enjoy Miss Helen's talk. I expect her letters are as interesting."
"This isn't from Helen. It's from her brother," Miss Gray blushed as Clifford quickly looked up at her. "But I would like to have you read it and give me your advice."
Clifford took the letter without a word. He opened it slowly and read it. Then he looked at Miss Gray with a puzzled look.
"The young man seems to want to open a correspondence with you. That is certainly all right. But you don't want my advice about that, do you?"
"Oh! I meant to give you this letter. It is the second one I received." Miss Gray handed Clifford another letter, and he gravely read that through slowly.
"He seems to be making good progress," was Elijah's comment. "In the first letter he wants to know if he can write, and in the second he wants to know if you will be Mrs. Douglas some time. I call that going some. But it's no more than I expected."
Miss Gray was almost crying.