"Impossible—"
"I assure you, it's true. They were once even more plentiful. But we're pushing them back with the Indians into the sunset. And they, too, will fade away into the twilight at last—"
He stopped suddenly. He had almost spoken a sentence that would have committed him beyond retreat. It was just on his lips to say:
"I didn't take such tender views of Indians and buffaloes until I met you!"
For the life of him he couldn't make the girl out. Her voice was music. Her laughter contagious. And yet she was reserved. About her personality hung a spell which forbade familiarity. Flirting was a pastime in the army. But it had never appealed to him. He was not so sure about her when she laughed.
And then her father worried him. The fiery old Southerner had the temper of the devil when roused. He could see that this second daughter was his favorite. He had caught a look of unreasonable anger and jealousy in his eye only that afternoon when they rode away together.
Still he must risk it. He had really suggested this sunset scene for that purpose. The field was his own choosing. Only a coward could run now.
He managed at last to get his lips to work.
"Since you came, Miss Sarah—I've been seeing life at a new angle—" he paused awkwardly.