“Goodness gracious! I ain't makin' any chests at yu'!” Laughter overcame him for a moment, and Miss Wood liked his laugh very much. “Please come a-ridin',” he urged. “It's the prettiest kind of a day.”
She looked at him frankly, and there was a pause. “I will take back two things that I said to you,” she then answered him. “I believe that I do like you. And I know that if I went riding with you, I should not have an immature protector.” And then, with a final gesture of acknowledgment, she held out her hand to him. “And I have always wanted,” she said, “to thank you for what you did at the river.”
He took her hand, and his heart bounded. “You're a gentleman!” he exclaimed.
It was now her turn to be overcome with merriment. “I've always wanted to be a man,” she said.
“I am mighty glad you ain't,” said he, looking at her.
But Molly had already received enough broadsides for one day. She could allow no more of them, and she took herself capably in hand. “Where did you learn to make such pretty speeches?” she asked. “Well, never mind that. One sees that you have had plenty of practice for one so young.”
“I am twenty-seven,” blurted the Virginian, and knew instantly that he had spoken like a fool.
“Who would have dreamed it!” said Molly, with well-measured mockery. She knew that she had scored at last, and that this day was hers. “Don't be too sure you are glad I'm not a man,” she now told him. There was something like a challenge in her voice.
“I risk it,” he remarked.
“For I am almost twenty-three myself,” she concluded. And she gave him a look on her own account.