"No indeed, Peggy. It wasn't anything particular." Ruth hesitated, uncertain whether to let it go at that, or to explain the situation in full. Her life-long habit of confiding in Peggy proved more than a match for her undefined hesitation, and she went on to tell of the letter from Oklahoma with its preposterous offer. She finished with a little contemptuous laugh, but Peggy's face was grave.
"Did he want to go, Ruth?"
"Why, he—well, it seems, Peggy, that since he got out of the service he's been sort of restless. He got so used to outdoor life that he doesn't enjoy indoor work. But I tell him he'll get over that."
"I suppose," said the downright Peggy, looking straight at her friend, "that you feel that you wouldn't want to live in Oklahoma."
Ruth jumped. Then as the blood rushed tingling to the roots of her hair, she turned on Peggy a look of intense indignation.
"Peggy Raymond, what on earth are you talking about?"
Peggy sat without replying and Ruth continued vehemently, "Of course I like Nelson Hallowell; like him very much. I consider him one of my very best friends. But that's all. The very idea of your talking as if—"
"I suppose," said Peggy, as Ruth came to a halt, "you'd miss him if he went out West."
Ruth brightened. "Yes, that's just it. I'd miss him terribly. I really think he's one of the nicest boys I ever knew, and for all he's so quiet, we have dandy times together. But as for anything else—"