The deep violet eyes under the long lashes were 232 beautiful without the flashing and sparkle of Jo Bennington’s coquettish gaze.
“That was an idiotic thing to ask,” Thaine admitted. “Why should you, sure enough?”
“I wish I had some of those lilies.” Leigh changed the subject abruptly.
“Hold the horse, then, and I’ll get them. I keep a hooked knife on a long stick hidden down here on purpose to cut them for me mummy, on occasion.”
Thaine jumped out of the buggy and ran down to the end of the driveway where the creamy lilies lay on the dark waters near the bank.
“Be careful of your dress,” he said, as he came back and handed a bunch of blossoms with their trailing wet stems up to Leigh. “Do you remember your Prince Quippi off in China, and your love letters, with old Grass River for postal service? Will you send me a letter down the old Kaw River when I go to the Kansas University this fall?”
“A sunflower letter like I used to send to Quippi?” Leigh asked.
“Any kind of a letter. I’ll miss you more than anything here, except my beloved chores about the farm,” Thaine responded.
“Jo will write all the letters you’ll have time to answer,” Leigh asserted.
“Oh, she says she’s going to Lawrence too, if her pa-paw is elected County Treasurer. We’ll be in the University together. You’ll just have to write to me, Leighlie.”