The Virginian rode away sedately through the autumn sunshine; and as he went he asked his Monte horse a question. “Do yu' reckon she'll have forgotten you too, you pie-biter?” said he. Instead of the new trousers, the cow-puncher's leathern chaps were on his legs. But he had the new scarf knotted at his neck. Most men would gladly have equalled him in appearance. “You Monte,” said he, “will she be at home?”
It was Sunday, and no school day, and he found her in her cabin that stood next the Taylors' house. Her eyes were very bright.
“I'd thought I'd just call,” said he.
“Why, that's such a pity! Mr. and Mrs. Taylor are away.”
“Yes; they've been right busy. That's why I thought I'd call. Will yu' come for a ride, ma'am?”
“Dear me! I—”
“You can ride my hawss. He's gentle.”
“What! And you walk?”
“No, ma'am. Nor the two of us ride him THIS time, either.” At this she turned entirely pink, and he, noticing, went on quietly: “I'll catch up one of Taylor's hawsses. Taylor knows me.”
“No. I don't really think I could do that. But thank you. Thank you very much. I must go now and see how Mrs. Taylor's fire is.”