“She can read just the same.”
“I haven’t a man’s strength,” returned Lucy, shaking her head gravely. “It’s such a pity.”
“Maybe not.”
The words slipped from his lips before it was possible for him to recover them. He flushed.
“What!” exclaimed Lucy.
“Maybe it’s as well for you to stay as you were made,” he explained in a strangely gentle voice.
The girl turned her head away. They had 187 reached the foot of the Webster driveway, and unbidden the horse halted. But as Lucy prepared to climb out of the wagon, the man stayed her.
“I reckon there’s some place I could turn round, ain’t there, if I was to drive in?” he said recklessly.
“Oh, there’s plenty of room,” Lucy answered, “only hadn’t you better drop me here? My—my—aunt is at home.”
“I don’t care,” Martin retorted with the same abandon. “I ain’t goin’ to have you plod up that long driveway in the broilin’ sun—aunt or no aunt.”