"I don't know that I'm counted a dull man, but you've got me now, Mrs. Grayson."
She pointed to the station platform, where the two brown heads were still not far apart.
"Without a word you left the woman that you are going to marry to look at a lot of cattle."
"Why, Sylvia is only a child, an' we've been used to each other for years. She understands."
"Yes, she will understand, or she isn't a woman," said Mrs. Grayson, and if possible the biting irony of her tone increased. "You will see, too, Mr. William Plummer, that one man at least did not neglect her for the sake of some dusty cattle."
Mr. Plummer stared again at the pair on the platform, and a mingled look of pain and apprehension came into his eyes.
"You surely can't mean anything of that kind! Why, little Sylvia has promised—"
"All things are possible, Mr. Plummer. My husband is a lawyer, and I have heard him quote often a maxim of the law which runs something like this, 'He must keep who can.'"
She turned away and would not have another word to say to him then, leaving Mr. Plummer in much perplexity and trouble.
Mrs. Grayson herself was in a similar perplexity and trouble throughout the day. Her doubts about the letter she had written to "King" Plummer increased. Perhaps it would have been wiser to let affairs take their own course. The sight of the two brown heads and the two young faces on the station platform had made her very thoughtful, and she drew comparisons with "King" Plummer; there might be days in autumn which resembled those of spring, but it was only a fleeting resemblance, because autumn was itself, with its own coloring, its own fruits, and its own days, and nothing could turn it into spring. "I will not meddle again," she resolved, and then her mind was taken off the matter by an incident in her husband's progress. In Nebraska the men left the train for a few days, travelling by carriage, and here occurred the event which created a great stir in its time.