"If you wish it," he said simply, "I will do what I can."
As he walked beside her towards her horse, she turned to him abruptly.
"You are very different from the men I have met around here," she
said.
"I am glad," he answered.
"Glad?"
"If you find me different, you will remember me, whether for better or
worse."
He spoke so earnestly that she grew grave. He helped her to the saddle
and she leaned a little to study him with the same gentle gravity.
"I should like to see you again, Mr. Lee," she said, and then in a
little outburst, "I should like to see you a _lot!_ Will you come to
my house sometime?"
The directness, the sudden smile, made him flinch. His voice was a
trifle unsteady when he replied.
"I _shall!_" He paused and his hand met hers. "If it is possible."
Her eyebrows raised a trifle.
"Is it so hard to do?"
"Do not ask me to explain," he said, "I am riding a long way."
"Oh, a 'long-rider'!" she laughed, "then of course--" She stopped
abruptly. It may have been imagination, but he seemed to start when
she spoke the phrase by which outlaws were known to each other. He was
forcing his eyes to meet hers.
He said slowly: "I am going on a long journey.
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