"I've never been angry with you, David. But I thought you didn't want to be bothered any longer with a silly girl like me and so—I tried to help and be sensible."
"I know. I was crazy that day you rode through town with the minister. I had no right—"
"Oh,"—she raised her head and looked at him in shy wonder and shocked relief, "oh, David—was it that—you were hurt at that?"
For answer he gently drew her close to him.
"But David, I didn't go riding with the minister. I was just taking a little pig home that a boy cousin of mine, who loves to tease me, sent me. I didn't know anything about pigs and the minister happened to be there and helped. He meant no harm."
"Oh, I know, Jocelyn. But he is such a wonderful man. Only another man, I guess, can know what a fine chap he is. And I thought if he did like you I couldn't stand in your way. I found out, of course, that I was mistaken. The minister doesn't care anything about girls. But that wasn't all. You know, Jocelyn, I'm Uncle Roger's own nephew but I bear his name because he legally gave it to me and because I have no name of my own. I was a fatherless baby and a girl like you ought to be courted by a better man than I am."
It was costing David Allan something to tell the girl in his arms all that. She guessed how the telling must hurt the boy, for she stopped it with a little, tender laugh.
"But, David dear, I knew all that the day you took me to the Decoration Day exercises. Grandma Wentworth told me. She said she knew you'd likely tell me yourself some day but she said that she liked you and she noticed that people who liked you always liked you a little better after they heard that."
He sat still, overwhelmed with her sweetness. Then, "Jocelyn, is it only liking?"
Her answer came like a soft note of joy.