"I hope you have not felt the need of the cape you were kind enough to lend me. I was just on my way to carry it home."
"And, having found the owner, you need not pursue your journey any further."
Flint felt inwardly chagrined. This, then, was her interpretation of his stopping to speak to her,—that he might be rid of his trouble.
"Thank you," he said stiffly; "but unless you need it, I prefer to take it back to the house."
"Very well," said his companion, "as you please." Then, moved evidently by a prick of conscience, "Perhaps you will rest awhile before climbing the hill."
As she spoke, she moved a little that he might share the shadow of the bank.
"Don't move on my account," Flint said.
"Oh," answered Winifred, smiling, "I owe you a decent civility, since you saved my life last night."
"Don't mention it. Actions should be judged by what they cost, not what they come to; and mine cost nothing but the hole in my coat, which I don't doubt is already better than repaired under Miss Standish's skilful handiwork, so pray dismiss the subject from your thoughts. There are few, I fancy, who find it so hard as you to accept anything at the hand of another. It vexes you not to be the one always to give aid [Pg 107] and comfort. If I knew you better, I might venture to hint that it smacks of spiritual pride."
"You generalize widely after an acquaintance of four days."