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. Perhaps I will come
back. If I am able to, I shall."

He dropped his hand from hers and she remained silent, guessing at
many things, and deeply moved, for every woman knows when a man speaks
from his soul.