Overton looked at her sharply, and saw that back of Lyster’s badinage there was something of truth.
“You did?” he asked, reproachfully. “I did not know I had been so bad a friend to you as that.”
But no answer was made to him. She was ashamed, and she looked it. She was also angry at Lyster, and he was made aware of it by a withering glance.
“Now I’m in her bad books,” he complained; “but it was only my fear of losing her that urged me to give you warning. I hope she does not take revenge by refusing me all the dances I am looking forward to to-night. I’d like to get you, as her guardian, on my side, Overton.”
The girl looked up, expectantly, and rested her slim fingers on the arms of the two men.
“I could not be of much use, unless I had an invitation myself to the dance,” Dan remarked, dryly; “mine has evidently been delayed in the mail.”
“You don’t like it?” said the girl, detecting the fact in his slight change of tone. “You don’t want me to go to dances?”
“What an idea!” exclaimed Lyster. “Of course, he is not going to spoil our good time by objecting—are you, Dan? I never thought of that. You see, you were away; 95 but, of course, I fancied you would like it, too. I’ll write you out a flourishing request for your presence, if that’s all.”
“It isn’t necessary; I’ll be there, I reckon. But why should you think I mean to keep you from jollifications?” he asked, looking kindly at ’Tana. “Don’t get the idea in your head that I’m a sort of ‘Bad Man from Roaring River,’ who eats a man or so for breakfast every day, and all the little girls he comes across. No, indeed! I’ll whistle for you to dance any time; so get on your war-paint and feathers when it pleases you.”
The prospect seemed to please her, for she walked closer to him and looked up at him with more content.