"And I have to go?" asked Steering piteously.
"Oh no, come up to the house and meet our sixteen-to-one congressman, Quicksilver Sam."
"No—I'll go," chose Steering. "Say, can't I get through from the garden here, and go down the river road?"
"Yes, you can. Samson shall bring your horse around, if you like. There's a bridle-path down to the river; it's Piney's way."
"Well, if you will be so good as to have the horse brought, I'll take Piney's path. I'm going to the hills to try to find Piney and Uncle Bernique. Think I'll sleep in the hills with them to-night. I feel so sad. When may I come back?"
"Well, you see," the trouble crept into her voice again, misty, tremulous—"you see, I may go away."
"Oh!" he cried, and then again, "Oh!" a bitter wailing note.
"Yes, I may," she said hastily. "You see, your friend, Miss Gossamer, wants me to join her in Europe. She is very insistent about it."
"And you may go?"