“You are not to grudge her to me, Davie, for a little while,” said Miss Holt.
“Oh, she can please herself,” said Davie, with a shrug. “When will you be home again, Katie?”
“Oh, in a day or two. I cannot just tell; but soon.”
They had not time to linger, and the horse did not care to stand, so with a hurried good-bye they were away and moved on rapidly for a while.
“I don’t think Davie likes me very well,” said Miss Elizabeth.
“Oh, it’s not you he doesn’t like,” said Katie eagerly.
“It is Jacob, I suppose?”
It was not Jacob that Katie meant, but she said nothing.
“Well, never mind; we are going to think and speak only of pleasant things for the next three days, and that was a bad beginning.”
Though the snow was deep it was light, and the horse, with the prospect of home before him, was willing to go, and strong as well, so they flew along, down the hill beneath the maples, past the graveyard and the church, into the long street of the town; and then, though it was growing late, Miss Elizabeth turned to the left over the bridge instead of going up the hill toward home. They came into the road on the other side of the bridge that brought most people to the town, and the snow was already well beaten down, and they went on in perfect enjoyment of the easiest of all movements.