“You don’t care then to pass it on.�
“No.�
Again they rode for several rods in silence, while Tibby, with wicked insistence, punished the balsam-weeds and kept her face turned from her companion.
“Miss Tibby.�
“Tabitha, if you please.�
“Miss Waring.�
“Ah, you are improving.�
“Is this our last ride?�
“I hope not,� she replied, looking about her in feigned alarm. “You are not expecting the day of judgment?�
“Why not? We know not the day nor the hour—�