He, however, at once interpreted her silence to mean that he had wounded her. "Forgive me for speaking so lightly of what to you must be a sacred and serious matter. God knows, my own experience—which, as you say, was not unlike your own—was sufficiently serious to me. But somehow, I can't take THIS seriously—this matter of your pretty curls!"
"Sometimes I wonder whether you take any person or any thing, here, seriously," she half smiled. "You seem to me to be always mocking at us a little."
"Mocking? Not so bad as that. And never at YOU, Tillie."
"You were sneering at Miss Spooner, weren't you?"
"Not at her; at Christopher Columbus—though, up to the time of that celebration, I was always rather fond of the discoverer of America. But now let us talk of YOU, Tillie. Allow me to congratulate you!"
"What for?"
"True enough. I stand corrected. Then accept my sincere sympathy." He smiled whimsically.
Tillie lifted her eyes to his face, and their pretty look of bewilderment made him long to stoop and snatch a kiss from her lips. But he resisted the temptation.
"I refer to your engagement to Absalom. That's one reason why I wanted you to come out here with me this afternoon—so that you could tell me about it—and explain to me what made you give up all your plans. What will your Miss Margaret say?"
Tillie stopped short, her cheeks reddening.