"Did he dare to talk such matters over with you?"
"He insisted on doing it--on asking my advice. So I advised in a way to
help you. I am glad, for your sake, that he is coming to his senses."
"I thank you for your help," she said, stiffly.
"Of course it's none of my business. I'm sorry he told me. But I wish
you all happiness."
She rose as if to go away. Then she stamped her foot and sat down. "My
father ought to be muzzled!"
She realized that he might misinterpret her indignation, for he said:
"I'm ashamed because I meddled in your affairs. But from what you saw
to-day in my case, I felt that I ought to help others who are in the
same trouble."
"But my father has mistaken my--" She broke off in much confusion, not
understanding the queer look he gave her. "I--I am glad my father is
coming to his senses and will allow me to--to--marry the young man," she
stammered. "And now I think I may be allowed to say that I hope you may
have the girl you love, some day. Would you like to have me talk to you
about her--how dear and pretty I think she is?"
"No, it hurts! But I do want you to know, Miss Can-dage, that I'm not
out fortune-hunting. I love her for herself--just herself--nothing
more!"
"I know it must be so."
"And I know that a young man you would choose is worthy of you. I told
your father--"
"No matter. That hurts, too! We both understand. We'll leave it
there!"
After the declaration of that truce they were frankly at ease and began
to chat with friendly freedom. The dusk came shading into the west, the
evening star dripped silver light.
"It's a peaceful spot here," she suggested. "Everybody seems to be
contented."
"Contentment--in a rut--that may be the best way of passing this life,
after all."
"But if you were in the rut, Captain Mayo, you might find that
contentment would not agree to come and live with you."
"Probably it wouldn't! I'd have to be born to the life here like this
chap who is coming up the hill. You can see that he isn't worrying about
himself or the world outside."
The man was clumping slowly along in his rubber boots; an old cap was
slewed awry on his head, its peak drawn down over one ear. He cocked up
the other ear at sound of voices on the porch and loafed up and sat down
on the edge of the boarding. Captain Mayo and the girl, accustomed to
bland indifference to formality in rural neighborhoods, accepted this
interruption without surprise or protest.