THE WOOD WALK
drew her hand slowly out again, enjoying his suspense, showing herself again the child. The sound of a horse's hoofs on the drive in front of them made her pause and look down the brown track. Around a near turn the rider came in view; and she closed her hand tightly, and let it fall at her side. The man on the road, the man the Raders called "Bert," pulled his pony to a walk and got unhandily out of the saddle.
He had seen the girl first. His look at sight of Carron made that unsusceptible person sorry for him. He seemed to consider the possibilities of retreat, then came on unwillingly as if impelled by a combination of appearances which he half hated and half feared.
Coming quite close to them he dragged off his hat. "Good morning, Blanche," his voice was soft and suppressed.
She gave him a clear and rather merciless eye. "Good morning." She seemed to be waiting for him to go by, but he came a little nearer and stopped, his hat clenched nervously in his hand. Evidently the poor devil was in disgrace for his last night's behavior.
"How are you this morning?" Carron said cheerfully.
The man replied sullenly, inaudibly.
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