The young man's melancholy smile troubled her, and although he pressed her hand in gratitude for the attention, she felt instinctively that she had not occupied his thoughts.
"I say, Joe, what ails you?" she asked, tenderly. "Did I hurt your feelin's when I asked ef you had noos from home? I thought you'd know it was fun."
"Ah, no; you have never been unkind to me; you're a good girl. I'm not ungrateful; you must never think that—but—"
"But you're sick," she interrupted. "I just knew there was somethin' out er kilter when you kum in, fur you looked so kinder wore out. I'll run and git you some brandy."
He held her back. "No—no; stay—it's nothing; I'll be all right to-morrow—'all hunky,' as you say." He laughed to reassure her, and asked where she got the apples.
"Jake fotched 'em up from Frisco, and it isn't everybody I'd hook things for, you'd better believe."
"Wouldn't you do it for Dick?" Joe asked, with a mischievous smile.
"None o' yer business," she returned, indignantly. It would have pleased her to notice even a suspicion of jealousy on Joe's part; but it seemed to her that the mention of his rival just at that moment was ill-timed, and she wondered why the fellow stupidly neglected his opportunities. He was evidently touched, though, for he folded her in his arms, and spoke affectionately.
"Tell me, Mary Jane," he said, looking into her eyes, "is it because you really like me so much that you are so kind to me and put nice things in my room? Did you think I couldn't guess who left the cake there yesterday?"
The girl blushed with pleasure, and her eyes fell beneath his gaze. When she raised them they were filled with tears, and her voice trembled when she spoke: