This sort of question is often extremely embarrassing. Lawrence looked at her thoughtfully, and wished that he had not made his innocent remark, since he was called upon to explain it.
"I don't know," he replied at last. "Somehow, I always associate you with society, and dancing, and that sort of thing."
"Do you? It's very unjust."
"Well—it's not exactly a crime to like society, is it? Why are you so angry?"
"I wish you wouldn't exaggerate! It does not follow that I'm angry because you're not fair to me."
"I didn't mean to be unfair. How you take one up!"
"Really, Mr. Lawrence—I think it's you who are doing that!"
Miss Trehearne, having a stretch of clear road before her, gave her pair their heads for a moment, and the light buckboard dashed briskly up the gentle ascent. Lawrence was watching her, though she did not look at him, and he thought he saw the colour deepen in her sunburnt cheek, although her grey eyes were as
