Page:The leopard's spots - a romance of the white man's burden-1865-1900 (IA leopardsspotsrom00dixo).pdf/272

 "Hush! you will make me do anything you wish."

"No, no, I don't want to see that letter unless you think it best."

"Well, you will not see any more of it, sir."

When Gaston met them at the depot with a carriage to take Sallie, her mother, and Helen Lowell, her Boston schoolmate, to the Springs, the first passenger to alight was Bob St. Clare.

"What in the thunder are you doing here! This town is quarantined against you!" said Gaston.

"Hush!" said Bob in a stage whisper. "She's here. There's her valise."

"That's why you can't land. Two's company, three's a crowd. I like you, Bob. But I won't stand for this."

The crowd were pouring off the train and had cut off Sallie's party in the centre of the car.

"Gaston, I just came up for your sake. I'm looking after Miss Lowell. I'm lost, ruined. Scared to say a word. I thought maybe, you'd help me out. We'll pool chances. I'll talk for you and you talk for me."

"It's a bargain, St. Clare."

"I want a separate carriage,—get me one quick."

In a few moments, the brief introduction over, Gaston was seated in the carriage facing Sallie and her mother whirling along the road, over the long hills toward the Campbell Sulphur Springs in the woods, two miles from the town.

How beautiful and fresh she looked to him even in a dusty travelling dress! He was drinking the nectar from the depths of her eyes.

"Now don't you think Helen the prettiest girl you ever saw, Mr. Gaston?" she asked.

"I hadn't noticed it."

"Where were your eyes?"