Somehow to Bostil she seemed different. She had been pretty, but now she was
more than that. She was radiant. Her blue eyes danced. She looked excited. She
had been telling her aunt something, and that worthy woman appeared at once
shocked and delighted. But Bostil's entrance had caused a mysterious break in
everything that had been going on, except the preparation of the morning meal.
"Now I rode in on some confab or other, that's sure," said Bostil,
good-naturedly.
"You sure did, Dad," replied Lucy, with a bright smile.
"Wal, let me sit in the game," he rejoined.
"Dad, you can't even ante," said Lucy.
"Jane, what's this kid up to?" asked Bostil, turning to his sister.
"The good Lord only knows!" replied Aunt Jane, with a sigh.
"Kid? . . . See here, Dad, I'm eighteen long ago. I'm grown up. I can do as I
please, go where I like, and anything. . . . Why, Dad, I could get--married."
"Haw! haw!" laughed Bostil. "Jane, hear the girl."
"I hear her, Bostil," sighed Aunt Jane.
"Wal, Lucy, I'd just like to see you fetch some fool love-sick rider around
when I'm feelin' good," said Bostil.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293