"Don't you scold mama," she finished. "Now, do you hear?"
"Yes, dear," I answered, meekly, with my arm around her waist and my face hidden behind her shoulder. "Anything more?"
"Well, well." She appeared at a loss to know what further to say or how to proceed.
Ethel remarked afterward to her mother that Orlean had not been near me a half hour until she was listening to everything I said.
She finally succeeded in getting off to work after commanding me to free her as she wanted to get away to think, Her mother bristled up with an, "I'll talk to you." This was entirely to my liking. I loved her mother as well as my own and had no fear that we would not soon agree, and we did. She couldn't be serious with me very long. She persisted in saying, however:
"I want my husband to know you are here and to know all about this. You must not expect to run in and get his daughter just like something wild, nor you just must not!"
"All right, mother," I assented. "But I must hurry back to Dakota, you know, for I can't lose so much time this time of year."
"You're the worst man I ever saw for always being in a hurry. I—I'll—well, I do declare!' And she bustled off to the kitchen with me following and talking.
"Oh, can't I get away from you? This is just awful, Mr. Devereaux."
"Don't you like the name?" I put in winningly and cutting off her discourse, and in spite of her attempt at seriousness she smiled.
