“Oh, it is nothing,” John Herrick returned, apparently somewhat disturbed by the eagerness of her gratitude. “It is just friendly interest in a neighbor.” He went on speaking in a tone of rather careful indifference. “Dr. Minturn and his wife are very fond of my Hester, and she often rides over to visit them. It takes a whole day to go there and another to come back, but I believe she would like to take the ride with you. She was saying something yesterday about going soon to see them. I would fetch the doctor myself, but I cannot leave Ely to-day. As he does not often ride to town for his mail and there is no telephone line, he is rather difficult to reach. If you wish to wait for a day or two, I will gladly go to fetch him.”
“Oh, no,” replied Beatrice. “I will go to-day if Hester is willing. I feel as though I could not wait. And how can I ever thank you for—for everything?”
There was a curious wistfulness in the look that John Herrick bent upon her, and a great kindness also.
“You have taken up rather a large task,” he said slowly; “taken it for the most part upon your own shoulders. I want you to know that, as far as it is in my power, I am going to help you make a success of it.”
His shyness had dropped as suddenly as it had come upon him and there was nothing but the warmest friendliness in his smile as he swung into the saddle.
By a touch upon the bridle, Beatrice turned Buck’s head toward the house, then paused and looked back at John Herrick. She saw that he had not moved but was sitting his horse staring after her. Upon sudden impulse she wheeled her pony and rode up to him.
“You are taking a great deal of trouble for—for strangers,” she said, looking him very steadily in the eyes. “I don’t think I can ever make you understand how grateful I am.”
“It is you who do not understand,” he returned gravely, “I——”
“It is you who do not understand,” he returned gravely