Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she
might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was
ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then
too late.
The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all
directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke
from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart
of the Hills.
"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place.
"Yes, thank Heaven!"
"You remember your promise?"
"What promise?"
"That you would explain your 'mystery.'"
"I've changed my mind."
A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made
the sunbeams waver.
"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
"I love you, Mary."
The raven spread his wings and flew away.
"Do you love me?" he insisted gently.
"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon."
"That is a strange answer, Mary."
"It is all the answer you'll get to-day."
"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?"
"Nothing."
"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now."
"Yes, you can say it--now."