IMPRESSIONS
So Baird had decided when he alighted from the train and went down into the village for his horse which he always left at one of the village stables while he was in the city. He stopped at the little store-post-office for his mail, then rode up the Post-Road, across the railroad track and past the station. A short distance away he noticed a shining new buggy drawn close to the edge of the road, and his next glance told him that the girl in the buggy was Ann Penniman. He had not recognized her at first, in her red coat and big white hat; he had not immediately connected her with the new buggy and capable horse, either.
Baird was in a mood to be regretful for past misdemeanors; never in his life had he felt so solemnly retrospective for so many consecutive hours. He rode directly up to Ann, undeterred by the way in which she looked through him, much as Judith had looked through her on the day before.
Baird brought his horse to a stop beside her. "How do you do?" he said gravely.
Ann's beautiful brows lifted. "I am well, thank you." Baird could not have imagined a more icy greeting.
"Will you endure my presence long enough for me to say something?" he asked with unabated gravity.
"Why—certainly—" Ann's brows were still raised.
"I want to apologize humbly, for the way in which I repaid your kindness the other day. I behaved abominably."
Ann paused an instant for a choice of words. "I reckon I was too—pleasant to a stranger—an' you behaved the way that's natural to you. I haven't thought much about it, so it doesn't matter at all."
"I guess you're right about my being an ill-mannered brute—it's about time I reformed," Baird returned with perfect sincerity. "I'm very sorry I did what I did.... You see, Miss Ann, you're very sweet and pretty, the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I think, and I clean forgot myself—was just abominably natural, as you say."