“Then come yer back an’ rest a bit in the settin’-room, an’ I’ll have my boy hitch up an’ take yer thar. ’T is a mortal warm day, an’ I calkerlate yer’ve walked your stent.” He put his hand kindly on her arm, and the girl obediently turned about and entered the tavern.
“You are very kind,” she said huskily.
“That’s all right,” he replied. “The squire ’s done me a turn now an’ agin, an’ then quality ’s quality, though ’t ain’t fer the moment havin’ its way.”
While she awaited the harnessing, Bagby came into the room.
“I wanted to say something to you, miss, but I guessed it might fluster you with all the boys about,” he said. “Has the squire ever told you anything concerning a scheme I proposed to him?”
“No,” Janice replied, coldly.
“Well, perhaps he would have, if he could have seen forward a little further. It’s being far-seeing that wins, miss.” The speaker paused, as if he expected a response, but getting none, he continued, “Would you like to see him home, and everything quiet and easy again?”
“Oh!” said the girl, starting to her feet. “I’d give anything if—”
“Now we’re talking,” interjected the captain, quite as eagerly. “Only say that you’ll be Mrs. Bagby, and back he is before sundown, and I’ll see to it that he is n’t troubled no more.”
Janice had stepped forward impulsively, but she shrank back at his words as if he had struck her; then without a word she walked from the room, went to where the cart was being got ready, and rested a trembling hand upon it, as if in need of support, while her swift breathing bespoke the intensity of her emotion.