We shook his hand and bade him good-night, and then McCarthy and I walked to the inn with Jo and the Colonel. They were to start for Merrifield at six o'clock in the morning.
“You should see our shop before you leave here,” I said.
“You take my father to see the shop, and I'll try to entertain Mr. McCarthy while you're gone,” she suggested.
The Colonel and I went together to the shop, then running night and day. We tramped through its long, busy floors, and by-and-by sat down, with our cigars, in the office.
“My friend,” said the Colonel, presently, “I should be proud to have you visit me at Merrifield.”
“That cannot be,” I said, “until I have your permission to propose to Jo.”
“Heron, I've been a fool,” he said. “I hate to confess, but I can't help it, and then it doesn't matter much, for the fact is generally known. Forgive me, sir, and, believe me, I should be proud to have you for a son-in-law.”
We returned to the inn.
“Mr. McCarthy has been telling me about his stables,” said Jo to her father. “Perhaps he would be kind enough to show them to you.”
“Glad to take you there,” said the gentleman, as he went away with the Colonel.