"Oh, well, Cher Ami did that. Tell me you'll let me take care of you always, and knock Carder's few remaining teeth down his throat if he ever comes in sight. Tell me you do—you like me a little."
Geraldine's entrancing smile was still lighting her pensive eyes.
"Oh, no, I don't like you. How can I? People don't like utter strangers. One feels worship, adoration for a creature that drops from the skies, and lifts a wretched helpless girl out of torturing captivity into the free sweet air of heaven."
"Well, that'll do," returned Ben, nodding. "Adoration and worship will do to begin with. Let us go over to the village and be married—my beautiful darling."
Geraldine colored vividly under this escape of her companion's ungovernable steam, but she did not change her expression.
"I certainly shall not do that," she answered quietly.
Ben relaxed his tense, appealing posture.
"Well, then," he said, drawing a long breath, "if you positively decline the trap—oh, it was a trap all right—if you are determined to postpone the wedding, I'll tell you that I really don't believe your father forged those checks."
"Oh, Mr. Barry—" the girl leaned toward him.
"Ben, or I won't go on."