With this she slipped from her saddle and walked on a few steps in advance of Romney, humming as she went,—
"'I am as I am, and so will I be;
But how that I am, none knoweth truly;
Be it ill, be it well, be I bond, be I free,
I am as I am, and so will I be.'"
There was a peculiar quality in Peggy's voice that made it an interpreter of her personality. It had as many changes in it as her moods. Now it sounded like a church bell over distant meadows, now like a child praying at its mother's knee, and then would come a sudden break of laughter like the trill of a bobolink shooting Parthian arrows of song as he flies.
Huntoon followed her, watching the scarlet cloak against the green background of the pines, and the stray curls that the wind blew backward as she walked. Neale and Cornwaleys were far behind beyond the turn in the road. At length he could bear it no longer. They were alone. He drew closer and whispered something in her ear.
"Indeed! And pray what of it?" answered the girl, coolly.
"I will tell you what of it," said the young man between his teeth. "I am not to be treated as I have seen you treat those tame gallants in the town back there. When I tell you I love you, you may refuse the love and you may say me nay; but you shall hear me out with respect, and you shall give me a serious answer, as the true love of an honorable man deserves whether it be returned or no."