"You are always efficient," said she. "But why is it that we always have some unpleasant argument? Come, let us have tea!"
"Many teas together, Madam, if you would listen to me. Many a pot brewed deep and black by scores of camp-fires."
"Fie! Monsieur proposes a scandal."
"No, Monsieur proposes only a journey to Washington—with you, or close after you."
"Of course I can not prevent your following," she said.
"Leave it so. But as to pledges—at least I want to keep my little slipper. Is Madam's wardrobe with her? Could she humor a peevish friend so much as that? Come, now, I will make fair exchange. I will trade you again my blanket clasp for that one little shoe!"
I felt in the pocket of my coat, and held out in my hand the remnants of the same little Indian ornament which had figured between us the first night we had met. She grasped at it eagerly, turning it over in her hand.
"But see," she said, "one of the clasps is gone."
"Yes, I parted with it. But come, do I have my little slipper?"
"Wait!" said she, and left me for a moment. Presently she returned, laughing, with the little white satin foot covering in her hand.