Then, recovering, he said with a smile, "Is being in love silly?"
"I think it's rather sacred——"
The word threw him back upon himself. Love was, you understand, to George, a game. And here was Becky acting as if it were a ritual.
Yet the novelty of her point of view made her seem more than ever adorable. In his heart he found himself saying, "Oh, you lovely, lovely little thing."
But he did not say it aloud. Indeed he, quite unaccountably, found himself unable to say anything, and while he hesitated, there charged up the west hill a panting dog with flapping ears. At the arched opening of the Pavilion she paused and wagged a tentative question.
"It's Nellie Custis——" Becky rose and ran towards her. "Where's your master, darling? Randy——"
In response to her call came an eerie cry—the old war cry of the Indian chiefs. Then young Paine came running up. "Becky! Here? There's going to be a storm. You better get home——"
He stopped short. Dalton was standing by the folding table.
"Hello, Paine," he said, with ease. "We're playing 'Babes in the Wood.'"