“I cannot understand,” she said, “why you make such silly remarks or why I laugh at them. A boy once affected me in the same way—years ago.”
She sat up straight, a faint smile touching her mouth and eyes. “I think that my work is about ended here, Mr. Burleson. Do you know that my pupils are enjoying a holiday—because you choose to indulge in a forest-fire?”
He strove to look remorseful, but he only grinned.
“I did not suppose you cared,” she said, severely, but made no motion to rise.
Presently he mentioned the mare again, asking if she really desired to sell her; and she said that she did.
“Then I’ll wire to-night,” he rejoined. “There should be a check for you day after to-morrow.”
“But suppose the man did not wish to buy her?”
“No chance of that. If you say so, the mare is sold from this moment.”
“I do say so,” she answered, in a low voice, “and thank you, Mr. Burleson. You do not realize how astonished I am—how fortunate—how deeply happy—”
“I can only realize it by comparison,” he said.