ought to go. Hank begged so hard,
and--and said such nice things about liking me. I reckon almost any girl
would want to believe even a fellow like him, if she'd been a
wall-flower all her life, and somehow didn't think she ought to be."

"But did you accept--did you? That's the main thing," Henley asked, and
his eyes were fixed on her mobile face where the pink shadows chased one
another beneath her long, drooping lashes.

"No, not positive," she said. "I simply couldn't get rid of him to do my
work without saying something; so I agreed to talk it over with my folks
and let him know after supper. He is to send a man over for the answer.
I already see my finish--I see it in the way you are staring at me right
now."

"He ain't for you, Dixie," Henley answered, decidedly. "You said once
that you looked on me like a big brother. Well, if your brother was to
see you driving off that way beside that man--that _sort_ of a man--he'd
be miserable. I can't do much to show my interest and friendship--though
I've tried hard to think of some way. I know you deserve more than has
come to you. You are young and full of life, and bright and pretty--so
pretty that you'd be the main one in any cluster, and it is hard to
think you have to pass your days as you do. But Hank Bradley ain't the
one to extend a hand. He ain't--God knows he ain't."

"I know it; you needn't say another word." The girl came nearer. The
moon was out now in a clear sky, and its rays fell athwart her face and
gleamed in the gold of her abundant tresses. His hand was resting on the
top rail of the fence, and she laid her own on it reassuringly. "Don't
bother, big brother," she said, in a deep, trembling tone. "I'll write
him that I can't go. I'd not enjoy a minute of it knowing that your
judgment was against it. Let's not talk about it. Let's talk about
something else. I've been thinking all day about that Carlton
storekeeper."

"Your ears must have burned." Henley betrayed his relief by the free
breath he drew. "I saw him over there, and we talked about you for an
hour on a stretch. I wasn't going to see him, but he heard I was in
town and sent his porter after me. He wanted to see me about you."

"_Me?_ That's funny, if you ain't joking."

"I ain't joking," Henley declared. "He said he'd been unable to get his
mind on business like he used to. He says, from what I've told him, that
he knows just how you look. He pinned me down again about fetching you
over