"Did you not go around by Sukey's and see her on your way home?" Rita asked.
"I did not," replied Dic. "She was in town and rode with mother and me as far as the Yates cross-path. She heard me telling mother I had been ill."
Dic did not tell Rita that Sukey had whispered to him in Billy Little's store that she, Sukey, had been going to town every day during the last fortnight in the hope that she might be the first one to see him, and that she was so wild with joy at his return that she could easily find it in her heart to kiss him right then and there in full view of a large and appreciative audience; and that if he would come over Christmas night when the folks were going to Marion, she would remain at home and—and would he come? Dic did not mention these small matters, and, in fact, had forgotten what Sukey had said, not caring a baw-bee how often she had gone to meet him or any one else, and having no intention to accept her hospitality Christmas night. Sukey's words had, for a moment, tickled his vanity,—an easy task for a pretty woman with any man,—but they had gone no deeper than his vanity, which, in Dic's case, was not very deep.
DIC LENDS MONEY GRATIS
CHAPTER IX
Dic Lends Money Gratis
Such an hour as our young friends spent upon the ciphering log would amply compensate for the trouble of living a very long life. "Everything," as Rita had asked, was told volubly, until Dic, perhaps by accident, clasped Rita's hand. His failure to do so earlier in the afternoon had been an oversight; but after the oversight had been corrected, comparative silence and watching the fire from the ciphering log proved a sufficiently pleasant pastime, and amply good enough for them. Good enough! I hope they have fireplaces and ciphering logs, soft, magnetic hands, and eloquent silence in paradise, else the place will surely be a failure.