“Even you? Of all persons in the world least interested, or ought to be. Since when have you become responsible for my actions?�
“Since I learned to care for you more than all others.�
“Mr. Bartram, you are melodramatic. I shall not listen to you any longer,� said Tibby, a flush dyeing her cheeks as she gathered up the discarded apron and hung it up.
“Will you not shorten your ride and come home before the storm?� Donald asked persistently.
“I shall not measure the length of my rides by your tape measure,� retorted Tibby, tossing her head, while the crimson spot on her cheek deepened; “neither shall I let you accompany me, even if you rode behind me. Your presence would mar all my pleasure.�
Tibby felt the tactless impertinence of her words, and her eyes fell beneath the gray ones fixed questioningly upon her.
“That’s pretty severe, if you mean it,� Donald replied, speaking with great deliberation. “Thank you for your frank manner of telling truths, however. It is good of you. One would rather be hit straight in the forehead than in the back. Is it George Eliot that says, ‘Truth has rough flavors if we bite it through’?�
“Why don’t you get angry with me?� Tibby tapped the floor impatiently with the toe of her boot.
“Because you are trying to make me so, and besides, it isn’t my year to be angry,� he said with a drawl, his gray eyes still upon her.
“O, you insufferable prig!� exclaimed the girl desperately. “As if the man ever lived who didn’t get angry. Tell me, were you never angry?�