A succeeding blankness of mind awoke to the clip-clop of hoofs and her father's cheery halloo.
Anderson dismounted and, throwing his bridle, he sat down heavily beside her.
"You can ride back home," he said.
Lenore knew she had been reproved for her wandering out there, and she made a motion to rise. His big hand held her down.
"No hurry, now I'm here. Grand day, ain't it? An' I see the barley's goin'. Them sacks look good to me."
Lenore waited with some perturbation. She had a guilty conscience and she feared he meant to quiz her about her sudden change of front regarding the Bend trip. So she could not look up and she could not say a word.
"Jake says that Nash has been tryin' to make up to you. Any sense in what he says?" asked her father, bluntly.
"Why, hardly. Oh, I've noticed Nash is—is rather fresh, as Rose calls it," replied Lenore, somewhat relieved at this unexpected query.
"Yes, he's been makin' eyes at Rose. She told me," replied Anderson.
"Discharge him," said Lenore, forcibly.