At this the girl turned and clutched him.
“Oh, Ross, I sent ye word not to come to-night,” she said, “but I wanted to see ye an’ warn ye, too. Pappy’s actin’ quare. He’s bound I shall marry.”
“Well, so ’m I,” assented Ross, half humorously. “Him an’ me won’t fall out over that.”
“Don’t make a joke of it,” said Vesta. “Hit’s as much as your life’s worth, an’ you know it. Hit’s as much as your life’s worth to be here to-night. We ort never to meet again.”
She added the concluding words in a lower tone not intended, perhaps, for her lover’s ears.
“Has he picked out a man for ye?” The young fellow returned to what she had first said.
“U-m—h-m,” assented Vesta, reluctantly.
“Who?”
“Sam Beath.” She spoke very low.
“Sam Beath.” The young fellow repeated her words louder. “That feller that come up from the Far Cove neighborhood to stay in the store?”