“Irene” Harford interposed, “have you forgotten what your mother told you to do—rather not to do-regarding——”
His stern tone made the acquisitive little creature’s fingers tighten on Pape’s arm; also made him lean toward her with the sympathy of a shared resentment. So the family had settled it in council—at Harford’s suggestion, doubtless—that Irene, as well as Jane, must cut the Montana ineligible.
His shoulders shrugged for a bit of ignoring on his own account and his speech was all for Irene. “The critter’s too hoofed to take in to your mother, but if you’d ask her to come out on the steps——”
“Aren’t you too cute?” the girl enthused. “I’ve heard about old-time, old-country suitors listing their oxen and asses when asking their lady-love’s hand. I hope mother will get the thought back of the deed. She’s got to, even if she don’t. She’ll be startled to small bits, but I’ll drag her out and——”
Her hand slid up to his shoulder and she stood on tip-toe to confide hurriedly: “It’s all right, their telling me what not to do. When it comes to you, Peter dar-rling, I know what to do. Fortunately I have the courage of my corpuscles and I’m almost as keen about your cow as I am about——”
Before Pape suspected her intention, so all too unaccustomed was he to demonstrations of such sort, she had pressed her ripe-rouged lips against his paling own in a kiss that spoke the perquisitory passion of one young lady of to-day.
Ignore Irene? Not any more than certain other somebodies should ignore him!
As she darted off, he felt moved by the initiative of desperation toward one of the witnesses. He anchored Polkadot by dropping the reins over his head; strode toward the foot of the steps where Jane was leaning against the balustrade; lifted a look straight as a board to hers. Despite the expression of repose-at-all-costs so becoming to her perfect features, despite the frank scowl of the more favored suitor standing literally and figuratively on the same level with her, he spoke from the heart.
“Jane,” said he, “everything I have and everything I am are at your service.”
“Steer and all?” She put the question in a curiously unimpassioned voice that made him ache with its reproach.