“I’m afraid you’re a flatterer, young woman,” he said, again noting the astonishing likeness that had so shaken him the evening before. “I don’t think you’re really glad to see me, or why should you, when you knew I was coming, go off with the cow?”
“That was a bargain,” she said, “I wanted to stay and see you just as much as Rosamund did. But as I had the party last night we agreed that it was only fair I should go after Bloss this evening, and Rosamund should stay and take care of mother and see you.”
If any commentary was needed on the deadly monotony of their existence, the Colonel felt that it was now given. That two young and attractive girls should regard him as a matter of such deep interest was proof to him of the unrelieved dreariness of their lives.
“So you went for Bloss,” he said, looking at the cow which had now passed them and was moving forward with a lurching swing toward a shed in the background.
“Yes, we go for her alternate nights. She wanders all over the tract by day and in the evening we’ve sometimes a hunt before we can get her.”
They were both looking at Bloss, who suddenly stopped, stepped heavily on the garden border, and began to bite a hole in a row of neat, green leaves.
“Bloss!” his companion almost shrieked, “you impudent, desperate cow! Did you ever see such an impertinent thing?”
And she ran toward Bloss, who, feeling the switch suddenly on her flanks gave up the happy dream of an evening feast of young lettuce and directed her course once more toward the shed. June followed her, calling imploringly over her shoulder,
“Please don’t go yet, oh, please don’t! I do want to see you for a moment, but I’ve got to put this miserable animal in her stable, or she’ll spoil the garden. Please wait.”
To which he called back: