She blushed, awful cute.
I could feel my heart movin' like a circular saw--two ways fer Sunday.
"Honey, what you watchin'?" This time I kinda whispered it.
She reached fer her George Washington, and begun fixin' to go. "The
sky," she says, some short.
I sighed, and pretended t' watch the sky, too. It looked yalla, like
somebody 'd hit it with a aig.
After while, I couldn't stand it no longer--I started in again. "Give
me a fair shake, Macie," I says. I was lookin' at her. Say! they
wasn't no squaw paint on _her_ cheeks, and no do-funny, drug-store
stuff in that pretty hair of hern. And them grey eyes----!
But she seemed a hull county off from me, and they was a right cold
current blowin' in my _di_rection.
"Mace," I begun again, "since you come t' Noo York you ain't got
you'self promised, 'r nothin' like that, have you? If you have, I'll
go back and make that Briggs City bunch look like a lot of colanders."
She shook her haid.
"Aw, Mace!" I says, turrible easied in my mind. "And--and, little gal,
has that bug doc been a-holdin' down a chair at you' house of Sunday
nights?"
"No,--he come just oncet."
"Why just oncet, honey?"
"I didn't want him t' come no more."
"He said somethin' insultin.' _I_ know. And when I see him again----"
She looked at me square then, and I seen a shine in them sweet eyes.
"Alec," she says, "you ast me oncet t' cut that man out. Wal, when
I got here, it was the only thing I could do fer--fer you."
"My little gal!--and nobody else ain't been visitin' you. Aw! I'm a
jealous critter!"
"Nobody else. People ain't very sociable here." Her lip kinda trembled.
That hurt me, and I run outen talk, fer all I had a heap t' say. They
was a lot of twitterin' goin' on overhaid, and she was peekin' up and
'round, showing a chin that was enough t' coop the little birds right
outen the trees.
I lent closter. "Say, Mace," I begun again, "ain't this park O. K.
fer green grass? I reckon the Bar Y cows 'd like to be turned loose
here."
She smiled a little, awful tender. "Bar Y!" she says, pullin' at her
gauntlets.
It give me spunk. "Mace," I says again, "if I'd 'a' been mean, I'd
'a' let the parson go on marryin' us, wouldn't I? Did you ever think
of that, little gal?"
She looked down, blinkin'.
I reached over and got holt of one of her hands. I was breathin' like
pore Up-State. "Honey," I says, "honey, dear."
She looked square at me. "Alec," she says, "you didn't understand me.
I ain't the kind of a gal that can be roped and hobbled and led on a
hackamore."
"And you ain't the kind t' dance with greasers," I says, "--if
you're thinkin' back to our first little fuss. _No,_ you _ain't_.
You're too darned nice fer such cattle."
By then, I was shakin' like I had the buck-fever. "Macie," I goes on,
"ain't you goin' t' let me come and see you?"
"Wal--wal----"
I got holt of her other hand. "Aw, little gal," I says, "nobody wants
you t' win out more 'n I do. _I'_m no dawg-in-the-manger, Macie.
You got a' _awful_ fine voice. Go ahaid--and be the biggest singer in
Amuricaw. But, honey,--that needn't t' keep you from likin' me--from
likin' ole Alec, that cain't live without his dear little gal----"
"I _do_ like y'! And didn't I allus say you was t' come on when I
made a success?"
She come into my arms then. And, aw! I knowed _just_ how lonesome she'd
been, pore little sweetheart! by the way she clung t' me.
"Alec!--my Alec!"
"Never mind! honey dear, never mind! I'm here t' take keer of y'."
Pretty soon, I says, "Macie, I bought somethin' fer you a while back."
(I felt in my vest pocket.) "Here it is. Will you look at it?"
She looked. And her pretty face got all smiles and blushes, and her
eyes tearful. "Alec!" she whispered. "Aint it _beau_tiful!" And she
reached out her left hand t' me.
I took it in both of mine--clost, fer a second. Then I sorted out that
slim third finger of hern,--and slipped on my little brandin'-iron.