"Why, ma'am, I don't—well, I guess it was yesterday some time."
Kate uttered a soft exclamation.
"Yesterday some time!" cried Mrs. Burr, hurrying to the stove. "Yesterday mornin' too, I'll bet. I might 'a' knowed it. You fellers didn't take much grub with yuh when yuh went north. An' I never thought to ask when yuh et last. A sprained ankle, a fifty-mile ride, an' nothin' to eat on top of it. No wonder yuh fainted. Yuh poor feller. An' here I been a-callin' yuh all kinds o' names. We won't wait for Dorothy. I'll have somethin' to eat for yuh in a minute."
"No hurry, ma'am," remarked Loudon. "I ain't a bit hungry."
"Kate," said Mrs. Burr, paying him no attention, "cut some bread, will yuh, an' start feedin' him. The butter's yonder."
Fifteen minutes later Loudon was sitting at the table devouring steak and potatoes. He was hungry. With great satisfaction Mrs. Burr watched him tuck away the food.
"There," she announced, filling his coffee cup for the second time, "I guess that'll hold yuh for awhile. I'll just set the coffeepot back on the stove an' Kate can give yuh some more when yuh want it. I'm goin' down street a minute."
When Mrs. Burr had gone Kate sat down opposite Loudon and locked her fingers under her chin. Loudon steadfastly kept his eyes glued to his plate. Confound the girl! Why must she pursue him in this brazen fashion? Couldn't she realize—but apparently she realized nothing save the importance of her own desires. Man-like, Loudon hardened his heart. Curiously enough, the strictly impersonal tone of Kate's opening remark gave him a distinct feeling of annoyance.
"Isn't Mrs. Burr great?" said Kate.
"Shore," mumbled Loudon.