The little girl’s eyes grew large with something almost like fear, but she did not shrink away from him. Instead she lifted up her face, smiling with tremulous lips.
“Would you, Paul?” she said.
He suddenly caught her in his arms and kissed her.
“Oh, Paul, that was my nose,” said Peg in a disappointed voice.
“I was in a hurry,” explained Paul.
“Why hurry?” inquired Peg innocently.
“That’s so,” agreed Paul, amazed at her self-command, and then took his time.
It seemed to Paul that he had done a thing immensely significant. Again he looked at Peg and wondered what had happened to her, she was so utterly different; and to himself, he seemed another being. As he continued looking at her he felt no desire to kiss her again. He wondered, indeed, how he had ever come to do such a thing. He wanted rather to protect her. She seemed so little, so tender, so needing protection. It suddenly came to him that henceforth he would always have to stand between her and any harm. She was in his charge, just as Tanna was, and yet with a difference. Yes, a wonderful and delightful difference. He was greatly puzzled over it all. He wanted to get away alone and think.
“Good night, Peg,” he said abruptly, and swung himself on his pinto.
“Good night, Paul,” answered Peg in a voice shy and tender. Something in her tone set Paul’s nerves tingling again. He wanted to get off his horse and kiss her again, but somehow he felt too that this would not be fair to her. She looked so little, so unprotected. No, he must not do it.