“That does very well for an amateur.”
“But what young woman of spirit”—he assumed an oratorical manner that suggested his father’s way of discoursing upon large topics—“what young woman of spirit, I ask, left forlorn with her knitting, would tamely submit to being snubbed? Does she not owe it to herself, to her womanhood—to the sex we all revere and love—to show her resentment and seek in any fashion that may please her the solace of companionship, the consolation of Nature!”
She laughed with guarded mirth at this imitation of her husband. He had drawn close to her, and he bent down and took her hands.
“You will go, won’t you? It will be just like those old times——”
“Please don’t! Run away and stand over there, and I’ll tell you whether I like your plan or not.”
When he had posted himself by the window, as far away as possible, she rose and went to the door, where she stood debating archly and watching him, biting her lip, tapping the floor lightly with her foot, her eyes dreamily bent upon him.
“If you will be good—very, very good—I think I shouldn’t mind!”
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SNOW-STORM AT ROSEDALE
“YOU haven’t seen the country yet; we will take a run for the hills,” he said when he had picked her up. “I might have brought my little racer, but this machine is more dignified. Besides, with the tonneau curtains drawn we look like a large party.”
They rode in silence at first but their spirits rose with the rapid flight and the joy of freedom. They skirted Stanwixley and were soon speeding over the hills. She wore a pretty fur toque and when the wind began to whip her free hair, he begged her not to tie on the veil she had brought, lest it spoil the jaunty effect of the cap, in which, he assured her, she looked only seventeen. Their flight into the open took colour from this thought of their youth, dancing alluringly before them over unreckoned miles to a goal where all was possible and all unknown. It had been unseasonably warm at noon, but the wind blew more coldly as the afternoon advanced. Dark clouds were massing in the West; the storm spirit, having ranged the plains and prairies of the farther West, was now preparing to pile its snow in the Appalachian valleys.