For a girl who had just restated her engagement to another man, she behaved most disgracefully during a long silence that was broken only by the measured tread of the horse. Snuggling in closer, she re-entered that illumined dream, and made no attempt to check the kisses he showered on the soft palm of the restraining hand. It was, no doubt, some realization of her misbehavior that caused her to sit up, presently, and pull it away.
“This won’t do. For the present we’ll have to behave like ordinary persons.”
“But your horse is gone,” he protested when she gently put away his arm. “You can’t walk.”
“No, but I can ride behind you in the Mexican fashion. Stop, while I change.”
He would have preferred it as it was, but when, after mounting behind him, she slid her arm about his waist, he had to concede the Mexican habit its own delights. It was surely nice of her to allow him to cover her hand.
“The young people,” she explained, “are not allowed to do this—only husbands and wives.”
“Poor young people!” he pitied. “But, on the whole, quite right. It would never do to have them cavorting over the country like this; too much of a strain on the conventions. Indeed, I think we ought to conform ourselves at once.”
“How?” Just as if she hadn’t known what he meant.
“Let’s ride into San Carlos, get a license from the jefe and be married at once?”
The bold proposal drew only a soft laugh. “To think that, up to a week ago, he didn’t even see me—except as part of the scenery. No, amigo, till to-morrow we are to be ordinary persons. Then I shall go and tell Ramon.”