"May I have this?" he asked, taking it from her.
"Why, certainly," she answered carelessly.
O'Hara had been looking at Livingston closely, as though extremely perplexed by his appearance. Suddenly he gave a deep laugh, jumped up from his seat and began shaking him warmly by the hand.
"Well, if this isn't——"
"Edward Livingston," interrupted the other briefly.
"But who'd ever dream of seeing you here in this country!" continued O'Hara. "It was too dark to see you distinctly when you rode up, or I'd have known you at once. I'm glad to see you; indeed, I am, sir!"
"How romantic!" exclaimed Hope. "Where did you ever meet Larry, Mr. Livingston?"
"I had the privilege of meeting Mr. O'Hara at the home of an acquaintance near London two or three years ago. I am very glad to have the pleasure again." O'Hara was about to say something in reply to this, but thought better of it, and remained silent, while Livingston continued: "I never imagined that I should meet my Irish-American friend in this far country, though you Americans do have a way of appearing in the most unexpected places. This America is a great country. I like it—in fact, well enough that I have now become one of its citizens."
"But you have not left England for good!" exclaimed O'Hara.
"For good, and for all time," replied Livingston, the youthful expression of his face settling into maturer lines of sadness. "I have not one tie left. My friend, Carter here, will tell you that I have settled down in these mountains as a respectable sheep-man—respectable, if not dearly beloved. Miss Hathaway does not believe there can be anything respectable about the sheep business, but I have promised to convert her. Is that not so?" he asked, turning to her.