Neither spoke again while the wheels spun dizzily along over the mile of road which brought them to the big stone gate-posts of the Preston farm.
He drew up his foaming horse sharply.
“I won’t come in,” he said, “if you’ll get out here.”
She felt herself vaguely humiliated as she stepped down from the high vehicle without assistance.
“Stop!” he ordered as she passed quickly inside, as if in haste to gain shelter.
She looked up at him uncertainly, her eyes wide with an emotion akin to terror.
“I shall not humiliate myself by coaxing or cajoling you,” he said haughtily. “You are best left alone for the present.”
He lifted his hat with a sweeping bow, and the red-wheeled buggy dashed away.
Barbara drew a long, struggling sigh. She felt curiously light and free, as if she had made a breathless escape from some grasping hand, outstretched to seize her.
The sight of Jimmy running swiftly down the driveway toward her heightened the sensation to almost passionate relief.