A ten-mile ride would utterly exhaust any girl he knew, and she apparently considered twice that distance merely a pleasant outing!
She came in after a while and sat on the other side of the hearth. Mrs. Kitson with many apologies, had gone "visitin'."
After an awkward silence he laughed outright—the boyish hearty laugh that won him friends everywhere.
"Are you going to keep it all to yourself?" she asked smiling.
"I was thinking," he returned, "of what the Autocrat said when some one asked him to define happiness."
She dimpled prettily.
"Yes, I know. 'Four feet on a fender.'"
Hers were not so far away but that the contrast in size was evident.
The ice was broken. "And are you happy?" he inquired tentatively.