Yes, but I might have been tracked to this cabin. And look here,
Flip," he said, suddenly straightening himself, and lifting the girl's
face to a level with his own, "I don't want you to lie any more for me.
It ain't right."
"All right. Ye needn't go to the pit, then, and I won't come."
"Flip!"
"And here's Dad coming. Quick!"
Lance chose to put his own interpretation on this last adjuration. The
resisting little hand was now lying quite limp on his shoulder. He drew
her brown, bright face near his own, felt her spiced breath on his
lips, his cheeks, his hot eyelids, his swimming eyes, kissed her,
hurriedly replaced his wig and blanket, and dropped beside the fire
with the tremulous laugh of youth and innocent first passion. Flip had
withdrawn to the window, and was looking out upon the rocking pines.
"He don't seem to be coming," said Lance, with a half-shy laugh.
"No," responded Flip demurely, pressing her hot oval cheek against the
wet panes; "I reckon I was mistaken. You're sure," she added, looking
resolutely another way, but still trembling like a magnetic needle
toward Lance, as he moved slightly before the fire, "you're _sure_
you'd like me to come to you?"
"Sure, Flip?"
"Hush!" said Flip, as this reassuring query of reproachful astonishment
appeared about to be emphasized by a forward amatory dash of Lance's;
"hush! he's coming this time, sure."
It was, indeed, Fairley, exceedingly wet, exceedingly bedraggled,
exceedingly sponged out as to color, and exceedingly profane. It
appeared that there was, indeed, a tree that had fallen in the "run,"
but that, far from diverting the overflow into the pit, it had
established "back water," which had forced another outlet. All this
might have been detected at once by any human intellect not distracted
by correspondence with strangers, and enfeebled by habitually scorning
the intellect of its own progenitor. This reckless selfishness had
further only resulted in giving "rheumatics" to that progenitor, who
now required the external administration of opodeldoc to his limbs, and
the internal administration of whiskey. Having thus spoken, Mr.
Fairley, with great promptitude and infantine simplicity, at once bared
two legs of entirely different colors and mutely waited for his
daughter to rub them. If Flip did this all unconsciously, and with the
mechanical dexterity of previous habit, it was because she did not
quite understand the savage eyes and impatient
|