His horse had wandered on a step and was nibbing at the grass, and, as he stood looking up at her, for the first time it occurred to him that she was fair. However a girl may seem in a ball-room, if she ever looks well she looks best in the saddle; and Justine, in spite of his criticism, did not sit her horse badly. Her gray habit, the high white collar and open vest, brought out the snuff-color of her eyes and hair. Her cheeks, too, this morning must have recovered some of the flush they had lost, or else the sun had been using its palette, for in them was the hue of the flower he had gathered and held.
She took it and inserted the stem in the lapel of her coat.
"Are you going?" she asked.
"What would you think of me if I remained?"
"What would I? I would think—"
As she hesitated she turned. He could see now it was not the sun alone that had been at work upon her face.
"Let me tell. You would think that a man with two arms for sole income has no right to linger in the neighborhood of a girl such as you. That is what you would think, what anyone would think; and while I care little enough about the existence which I lead in the minds of other people, yet I do care for your esteem. If I stay, I lose it. I should lose, too, my own; let me keep them both and go."
"I do not yet see why?"
"You don't!" The answer was so abrupt in tone that you would have said he was irritated at her remark, judging it unnecessary and ill-timed. "You don't!" he repeated. "Go back a bit, and perhaps you will remember that after I saw you at your house I did not come back again."
"I do indeed remember."