His eyes noted for an instant significantly her sombre riding costume, then sought her eyes with an expression of simple and friendly sympathy.The tears came to her eyes, and she turned her face away.She for the first time had a sense of loss, a moving memory of her father's goodness to her, of an element of tenderness that had passed out of her life forever.And she felt abjectly ashamed--ashamed of her relief at the lifting of the burden of his long struggle against death, ashamed of her miserable wranglings with Martha and Billy's wife, ashamed of her forgetfulness of her father in the exultation over her wealth, ashamed of the elaborately fashionable mourning she was wearing--and of the black horse she had bought to match.She hoped he would not observe these last flauntings of the purely formal character of a grief that was being utilized to make a display of fashionableness.
``You always bring out the best there is in me,'' said she.
He stood silently before her--not in embarrassment, for he was rarely self-conscious enough to be embarrassed, but refraining from speech simply because there was nothing to say.
``I haven't heard any of the details of the election,'' she went on.``Did you come out as well as you hoped?''
``Better,'' said he.``As a result of the election the membership of the League has already a little more than doubled.
We could have quadrupled it, but we are somewhat strict in our requirements.We want only those who will stay members as long as they stay citizens of Remsen City.But I must go on to Charlton or he'll be out on his rounds.''
She caught his glance, which was inclined to avoid hers.She gave him a pleading look.``I'll walk with you part of the way,'' she said.
He seemed to be searching for an excuse to get away.Whether because he failed to find it or because he changed his mind, he said: ``You'll not mind going at a good gait?''
``I'll ride,'' said she.``It's not comfortable, walking fast in these boots.''
He stood by to help her, but let her get into the saddle alone.
She smiled down at him with a little coquetry.``Are you afraid to touch me--to-day?'' she asked.
He laughed: ``The bird IS merely an excuse,'' he admitted.
``I've got back my self-control, and I purpose to keep it.''
She flushed angrily.His frankness now seemed to her to be flavored with impertinent assurance.``That's amusing,'' said she, with an unpleasant smile.``You have an extraordinary opinion of yourself, haven't you?''
He shrugged his shoulders as if the subject did not interest him and set off at a gait that compelled her horse to a rapid walk.
She said presently:
``I'm going to live at the old place alone for the present.
You'll come to see me?''
He looked at her.``No,'' he said.``As I told you a moment ago, that's over.You'll have to find some one else to amuse you--for, I understand perfectly, Jane, that you were only doing what's called flirting.That sort of thing is a waste of time--for me.I'm not competent to judge whether it's a waste for you.''
She looked coldly down at him.``You have changed since I last saw you,'' she said.``I don't mean the change in your manner toward me.I mean something deeper.I've often heard that politics makes a man deteriorate.You must be careful, Victor.''
``I must think about that,'' said he.``Thank you for warning me.''
His prompt acceptance of her insincere criticism made her straightway repentant.``No, it's I that have changed,'' she said.``Oh, I'm horrid!--simply horrid.I'm in despair about myself.''
``Any one who thinks about himself is bound to be,'' said he philosophically.``That's why one has to keep busy in order to keep contented.'' He halted.``I can save a mile and half an hour by crossing these fields.'' He held the wounded bird in one hand very carefully while he lifted his hat.
She colored deeply.``Victor,'' she said, ``isn't there any way that you and I can be friends?''
``Yes,'' replied he.``As I told you before, by becoming one of us.Those are impossible terms, of course.But that's the only way by which we could be of use to each other.Jane, if I, professing what I do profess, offered to be friends with you on any other terms, you'd be very foolish not to reject my offer.
For, it would mean that I was a fraud.Don't you see that?''
``Yes,'' she admitted.``But when I am with you I see everything exactly as you represent it.''
``It's fortunate for you that I'm not disposed to take advantage of that--isn't it?'' said he, with good-humored irony.
``You don't believe me!''
``Not altogether,'' he confessed.``To be quite candid, I think that for some reason or other I rouse in you an irresistible desire to pose.I doubt if you realize it-- wholly.But you'd be hard pressed just where to draw the line between the sincere and the insincere, wouldn't you--honestly?''
She sat moodily combing at her horse's mane.
``I know it's cruel,'' he went on lightly, ``to deny anything, however small, to a young lady who has always had her own way.
But in self-defense I must do it.''
``Why DO I take these things from you?'' she cried, in sudden exasperation.And touching her horse with her stick, she was off at a gallop.
