hing to worship. He was almost afraid to speak, for fear she would
snuff out the tiny flame of hope which her half-finished sentence had
kindled. He leaned forward, his face eager.

"Beatrice, only say you will go--with me, dear!"

Beatrice started; for the moment she had forgotten him. Her eyes kept to
the hills. "Go--to England? One trip at a time, Sir Redmond. I have
been here only ten days, and we came for three months. Three months of
freedom in this big, glorious place."

"And then?" His voice was husky.

"And then--freckle lotions by the quart, I expect."

Sir Redmond got upon his feet, and he was rather white around the mouth.

"We Englishmen are a stubborn lot, Miss Beatrice. We won't stop fighting
until we win."

"We Yankees," retorted she airily, "value our freedom above everything
else. We won't surrender it without fighting for it first."

He caught eagerly at the lack of finality in her tones. "I don't want to
take your freedom, Beatrice. I only want the right to love you."

"Oh, as for that, I suppose you may love me as much as you please--only
so you don't torment me to death talking about it."

Beatrice, not looking particularly tormented, waved answer to Dick, who
was shouting something up at her, and went blithely down the hill, with
Sir Redmond following gloomily, several paces behind.

CHAPTER 4. Beatrice Learns a New Language.

"D'you want to see the boys work a bunch of cattle, Trix?" Dick said
to her, when she came down to where he was leaning against a high board
fence, waiting for her.

"'Deed I do, Dicky--only I've no idea what you mean."

"The boys are going to cut out some cattle we've contracted to the
government--for the Indians, you know. They're holding the bunch over in
Dry Coulee; it's only three or four miles. I've got to go over and see
the foreman, and I thought maybe you'd like to go along."

"There's nothing I can think of that I would like better. Won't it be
fine, Sir Redmond?"

Sir Redmond did not say whether he thought it would be fine or not. He
still had the white streak around his mouth, and he went through the
gate and on to the house without a word--which was undoubtedly a
rude thing to do. Sir Redmond was not often rude. Dick watched him
speculatively until he was beyond hearing them. Then, "What have you
done to milord, Trix?" he wanted to know.

"Nothing," said Beatrice.

"Well," Dick said, with decision, "he looks to me like a man that has