The lurking mirth and mischief in her face grew more perceptible each moment, while he was certain, although he did not look in that direction, that Sego was doing his best to smother a laugh.
"Well, what of that?" she asked, looking down from his face and toying with a button at his waist.
"What of that?" he exclaimed, indignantly. "It is the meanest thing a person could do."
The reader must be indulgent, and consider the circumstances in which the hunter was placed. The mischievous Edith was tormenting him. How could she, being a woman, help it?
"Don't you believe I love you?" she asked, after a moment's pause.
"Believe it? To my sorrow and mortification, I know you don't."
"Lewis!"
"You love Sego, and I can be nothing to you but one of many friends," he added.
"Yes, dearly do I love Sego!" the maiden replied, with the old roguishness in her eyes.
"Fudge!" he exclaimed, impatiently, and making a movement as if to move away. "Edith"—he spoke earnestly—"I can not bear this trifling. I am sorry you have treated me thus. I must leave you——"