"Don't say that. I'm sure, after what he spoke about you in his speech, you ought to let bygones be bygones and feel friendly."
"That's all past and forgiven," said Rhoda; "but I won't pretend I feel to him like I do to other men."
"I hope you don't," replied Madge, laughing. "That's just what I want to hear, Rhoda."
The younger was puzzled and her sister-in-law, unconscious of the fateful moment, made the first move in a game that was to determine three destinies.
"I hope you don't. I hope you feel that Bartley Crocker be worth a little more thought than most men. At any rate, don't set your mind against him. That wouldn't be fair--to yourself, Rhoda."
"My mind's neither for nor against any human creature outside my own people. Why should it be?"
"There's no reason at all. You're young and you're terrible pretty, and not a soul that's ever set eyes upon you feels anything but kind thoughts of you."
Rhoda did not answer for a few moments; then a bewildered expression faded from her face.
"I'll go out and see the kennel now."
"Leave that till the morning and unpack your things. 'Twill be dark as a wolf's mouth over there."