"Certainly not." The Squire was plainly tickled. "I'll be only too glad of your company," he said, smiling genially.
"What's goin' to happen?" asked Mrs. Brown wonderingly. It was a new mood for Sally.
"I've just thought of something that I've got to do, and if the Squire'll take me along with him, it'll save me the trouble of saddling Joe. I'll be ready as soon as I get my cloak and hat," added she, disappearing in the house.
"Humph!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, looking first after her daughter, then at the Squire. "This looks a little as if Sally was comin' to her senses at last."
"Just give her a little time, my dear madam, a little time," advised the Squire, smiling all over his fat, red face. "She'll come around all right by and by."
When the Squire and Sally drove off, she seemed lost in thought, and only answered in monosyllables to her companion's gallant attempts to be agreeable.
"What's the matter, Miss Sally?" he asked at last, piqued at her silence and indifference. "You act as if you might be in love," he added with a jocose look.
"Perhaps I am," acknowledged Sally turning the full battery of her pretty eyes upon her companion, until his pulse quickened as it had not done in years. He made an effort to speak, but the words failed him, and he only edged a little closer to her. For a wonder, she did not attempt to draw farther away. Was she really coming to her senses, as her mother had predicted?
"Do you remember the ride we took a few weeks ago, an' what you said to me?" she asked slowly, and with averted eyes.
"My dear, I have thought of little else, I do assure you," answered the Squire promptly, suddenly finding speech, now that the dazzling battery was withdrawn.