Rosebud’s exasperation broke all bounds. If a look could have withered him Seth would have shriveled to bare bones. The next moment the girl’s lips trembled and two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. She urged her horse ahead of her companion and kept that lead until they had crossed the bridge. Seth’s eyes, busy in every other direction, had failed to witness her distress, just as he failed to take any heed of her words.
“You see, Rosie, ther’s a heap o’ trouble comin’ along here,” he said presently, when he had drawn level.
“Yes,” the girl replied, without turning her head; “and I’m going to stay for it. Auntie can go back when she likes, but this is my home, and—Seth, why do you always want to be rid of me?”
Seth remained silent for a moment. Then he spoke in a voice that was a little unsteady.
“I don’t want to be rid of you, Rosie. No; I’m jest thinkin’ of you,” he added. 260
The old impulsive Rosebud was uppermost in an instant. She turned on him, and reached out a hand which he took in both of his.
“Seth, you are a dear, and I’m sorry for being so rude to you. It’s always been like this, hasn’t it? You’ve always thought of me, for me. I wish, sometimes, you wouldn’t think—for me.”
She withdrew her hand, and, touching her horse with her heel, galloped on toward the farm, leaving Seth to come on behind. She gave him no chance of overtaking her this time.
Supper-time brought a lively scene with it. Rosebud, for some unexplained reason, was in a more than usually contradictory mood. Mrs. Rickards had thoroughly enjoyed her day in spite of the sloppy condition of everything outside the house. She was a woman who took a deep interest in life. She was worldly and practical in all matters which she considered to be the business of a woman’s life, but her mental vision was not bounded by such a horizon.
Everything interested her, provided her personal comfort was not too much disturbed. The farm was strange, new, and as such was welcome, but Ma Sampson was a study which fascinated her. She was in the best of spirits when the little family gathered for the evening meal. This had been much elaborated by Ma in her visitors’ honor.