William’s spirits rose. It wasn’t often he scored over Ethel and he feared that even now she would have her revenge.
He watched her go down the road. Coming back along the road was Mr. March. As he met Ethel a deep flush and a sickly smile overspread his face. He stopped and spoke to her, gazing at her with a sheep-like air. Ethel passed on haughtily. He had recovered slightly when he reached the Outlaws, though traces of his flush still remained.
“Well,” he said with a loud laugh, “Divorce or bigamy? Which is it to be? Ha, ha! Excellent!”
He put his walking stick against Ginger’s middle and playfully pushed him off the stile backwards. Then he went on his way laughing loudly.
“I said he was cracked!” said Ginger climbing back to his perch.
“He’d jus’ about suit Ethel then,” said William bitterly.
They sat in silence a few minutes. There was a far-away meditative look in William’s eyes.
“I say,” he said at last, “’f Ethel married him she’d go away from our house and live in his, wun’t she?”
“U-hum,” agreed Ginger absently as he tried to hit the second tree to the left of the telegraph post that counted five.
“I wish there was some way of makin’ them fall in love with each other,” said William gloomily.