Out of breath they both were when finally they caught up. A few yards farther on, the path broadened, leading between an avenue of sugar maples raining golden leaves.
“You have been hunting,” the young man remarked in an effort to induce Mary Gilchrist to behave as if she were aware of his existence.
The fact was too obvious to require an answer, notwithstanding Gill nodded.
“Do you actually mean you have shot and killed those pretty little things yourself, those gentle, furry rabbits with their soft eyes and cotton tails and the quail one can hear calling to one another with their sweet, throaty notes? The wild animals one might be willing to destroy, although I scarcely think that fair in their own haunts. Surely a portion of this world should be reserved to them as well! But even when one reconciles oneself to the idea of a man hunting, the thought of a woman or girl being willing to kill is beyond my conception.”
Bettina saw the hot color flood Gill’s cheeks, saw her bite her lips.
“Well, you may now broaden your conceptions! I have been hunting since I was a little girl, was taught by my father a good many years ago. Do you know I have an idea, that were we to invite you to have dinner with us to-night, no one would enjoy the game I have just killed more than you. There are so many people in this world who like to sentimentalize and leave the hard work to others, while they enjoy the results. You were quite willing to remain on your couch of balsam needles this afternoon while we scoured the woods in search of you. Your plan is an excellent one, so long as it is successful. Never do the difficult or disagreeable tasks; always find some one to do them for you.”
Ordinarily gay and sweet tempered, Bettina glanced at the younger girl in surprise.
If Gill were wounded by the stranger’s speech, her revenge had been swift and sure. Evidently her point had struck home, since, although he appeared angry, he made no reply.
By this time they had reached a spot so near their camp that Bettina herself recognized the environment.
A white birch tree stood alone in a small clearing, rising thirty feet in the air; on this autumn afternoon the foliage was still so dense that one could barely see the light between the thick branches.