You're made of iron and steel and precious stones.
You've the courage of a--a--I was going to say a man but I mean an angel.
You're pure as snow, and true as the heavenly blue, and firm as a rock;
and, if I had never respected you before, I would have to now. I respect,
I honor, I--I--I--pray for you!" he finished fiercely.
He turned his back to hide his emotion.
She lifted her eyes to his when he turned again, and her own were full of
tears.
"Thank you!" She said it very simply. "That makes me--very--glad! But I
cannot go with you."
"Do you mean that?" he asked her desperately.
"Yes," steadily.
"Then I shall have to stay too."
"But you can't! You must go to your mother. I won't be stayed with. And
what would she think? Mothers are--everything!" she finished. "You must go
quick and get ready. What can I do to help?"
He gave her a look which she remembered long years afterward. It seemed to
burn and sear its way into her soul. How was it that a stranger had the
power to scorch her with anguish this way? And she him?
He turned, still with that desperate, half-frantic look in his face, and
accosted two men who stood at the other end of the platform. They were not
in particular need of a horse at present; but they were always ready to
look at a bargain, and they walked speculatively down the uneven boards
of the platform with him to where his horse stood, and inspected it.
The girl watched the whole proceeding with eyes that saw not but into the
future.
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