"So he has hunted you up?"
"Well, yes. He came to see me just a fortnight ago or so, and he has ridden over once or twice since. Don't you think he's a fine, handsome fellow?"
"Yes; he is not bad-looking."
"Oh, I call him handsome. It must be nice to be young and have so much strength and energy."
"Well, are you not young?"
"I'm ten years older than Sam," he said, a little sadly, "and ten years is a big slice out of one's life."
"Are you growing pessimistic?" she questioned. "You are usually so hopeful."
"There are some things too good to hope for," he replied, "too beautiful, too far away. I almost envy a man like my Cousin Sam. He has everything within his reach."
"You seem to be quite enthusiastic about your cousin," she said, with a smile.
"Am I? Oh, well, you know, he is my cousin, and a good fellow, and if I can speak a good—I mean, if I can appreciate—that is, if I can cultivate a right feeling toward him, and—and—all that, you know, don't you think I ought to do so?"