"I reckon I could." She laughed a little. "Do they ride that way where you come from? It must look right funny. I don't guess I'd like it."
"But just try—to please me? Why not?"
"If you don't mind, I'd rather walk, please, suh. Don't wait."
"Then I will walk with you. I may do that, may I not?" He caught the bridle-rein on the saddle, leaving the horse to browse along behind as he would, and walked at her side. She made no further protest, but was silent.
"You don't object to this, do you?" he insisted.
"It's pleasanter than being alone, but it's right far to walk, seems like, for you."
"Then why not for you?" She smiled her mysterious, quiet smile. "You must know that I am stronger than you?" he persisted.
"I ought to think so, since that day we rode over to Cate Irwin's, but I was right afraid for you that time, lest you get cold; and then it was me—" she paused, and looked squarely in his eyes and laughed. "You wouldn't say 'it was me,' would you?"
He joined merrily in her laughter. "I never corrected you on that."
"You never did, but you didn't need to. I often know, after I've said something—not—right—as you would say it."