kiss him. He seemed so surprised. Some men might think it was perfectly natural, because they are beasts. But he was really surprised—and he meant that last one. I know he did. Not a word; he just floated away because I asked him to. His name is Murdong. I mustn't forget that."
She tried to read a story of romance and adventure, but it seemed dull to read when she had such memories and thoughts and was living such an adventure herself. A hail from Mrs. Mahna interrupted her reverie:
"I kinda suspected that feller," Mrs. Mahna declared. "One of those smoothy-woothy sort of fellers. If you hadn't sent 'im pikin', I 'lowed I'd go visitin' with a shot gun, an' then he'd git, you bet!"
"Oh, he's all right, Mrs. Mahna," Delia exclaimed, impatiently. "Probably I'll catch him again down the river. He's real nice."
"Wha-a-at!" Mrs. Mahna cried.
"Yes, real nice; you see, he's young and—good. I was afraid if I didn't send him away, you might think something."
"Well, I de-clare!"
"I hated to do it, so I sent him packing."
"Gracious!" Mrs. Mahna commented. "You are a queer one. You looking out for the looks down Old Mississip'? Sho!"
"Oh, a lady cannot be too careful," Delia answered.
