Her Prairie Knight
in his divinity's face startled his assurance. "You's going wis us, isn't you, Be'trice? I want you to help take care of my two puppies. Martha can't, 'cause she slaps dere ears. Is you going wis us, Be'trice?"
This, at the dinner table, was, to say the least, embarrassing—especially on this especial evening, when Beatrice was trying to muster courage to give Sir Redmond the only answer it was possible to give him now. It was an open secret that, in case she had accepted him, the home-going of Miss Hayes would be delayed a bit, when they would all go together. Beatrice had overheard her mother and Miss Hayes discussing this possibility only the day before. She undertook the impossible, and attempted to head Dorman off.
"Perhaps you'll see a whale, honey. The puppies never saw a whale, I'm sure. What do you suppose they'd think?"
"Is you going?"
"You'd have to hold them up high, you know, so they could see, and show them just where to look, and"
"Is you going, Be'trice?"
Beatrice sent a quick, despairing glance around
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