He hesitated. “You have done too much to be denied whatever you ask, Jeanne,” he answered seriously. “Moreover, the whole thing is your idea. I have no right to refuse you. But I hope you will change your mind.”
Her clear, blue eyes looked up into his, and she smiled. “We have an unfortunate habit in our family,” she said quietly, “of not changing our minds.”
She patted her horse affectionately, and moved off with her companion’s powerful chestnut pacing gracefully beside her.
They had scarcely begun the descent of the hill, however, when a voice hailed them. A moment later a small, gray-haired man trotted up. He was smiling amiably.
“Howdy, Miss Jeanne! Howdy, Rand!”
“Hello, Peterson,” Cameron answered heartily. “How is the convalescent?”
“Gittin’ along fine,” the little man answered. “Say,” lowering his voice, “I thought I’d tell you I’m with the boys to-morrow night.”
“Do you think you’re well enough?” Cameron’s voice was doubtful.
“Well or not well don’t make no difference! I got a few little obligations comin’ to me which I’m meanin’ to collect if anybody’ gits excited.”
“Suppose I forbid you?”