“Really? Then he told you about that?”
“Yes; he was down to see me last week. He didn't seem to think much of it then—but”—she hesitated and smiled, as if over the memory of something amusing—“he's been thinking of it since. As Frank and I drove through the main street this morning—Frank had gone in a store to get a basket of fruit—he came to me on his way to the train for Atlanta. He hadn't time to say much, but he said if you were out here to-day to tell you to come in town to-night without fail, so as to meet him at his office early in the morning. He 'll be back on the midnight train. I asked him if it was about the railroad, and he said it was—that he had discovered something that looked encouraging.”
“I'm glad of that,” said Alan, a thrill of excitement passing over him. “Rayburn threw cold water on my ideas the other day, and—”
“I know he did, and it was a shame,” said Dolly, warmly. “The idea of his thinking he is the only man in Georgia with originality! Anyway, I hope it will come to something.”
“I certainly do,” responded Alan. “It's the only thing I could think of to help my people, and I am willing to stake all I have on it—which is, after all, nothing but time and energy.”
“Well, don't you let him nor any one else discourage you,” said the girl, her eyes flashing. “A man who listens to other people and puts his own ideas aside is unworthy of the brain God gave him. There is another thing”—her voice sank lower and her eyes sought the ground. “Rayburn Miller is a fine, allround man, but he is not perfect by any means. He talks freely to me, you know; he's known me since I was knee-high. Well, he told me—he told me of the talk he had with you at the dance that night. Oh, that hurt me—hurt me!”
“He told you that!” exclaimed Alan, in surprise. “Yes, and it actually disgusted me. Does he think all men ought to act on that sort of advice? He might, for he has made an unnatural man of himself, with all his fancies for new faces; but you are not that kind, Alan, and I'm sorry you and he are so intimate—not that he can influence you much, but he has already, in a way, and that has pained me deeply.”
“He has influenced me?” cried Alan, in surprise. “I think you are mistaken.”
“You may not realize it, but he has,” said Dolly, with gentle and yet unyielding earnestness. “You see, you are so very sensitive that it would not be hard to make you believe that a young man ought not to keep on caring for a girl whose parents object to his attentions.”
“Ah!” He had caught her drift.