"How?" I asked.
"I don't mean he knows who I am, but he saw me a fortnight ago, in one of
our fields, giving Leander, who is but three, a lesson or two. He stopped
and looked on for a good many minutes, and said a kind word about my
handling of the horse. He will remember, I am sure."
"How glad I am he knows something of you! If you don't mind being seen
with me, then, there is no reason why you should not give me your
escort."
Dick was not sorry to dismount, and we rode away together.
I was glad of this for one definite reason, as well as many indefinite: I
wanted John to see my letter, and know what cause I had to love my uncle.
I forgot for the moment my resolution not to meet him again before
telling my uncle everything. Somehow he seemed to be going with me to
receive my uncle's approval.
He read the letter, old Death carrying him all the time as gently as he
carried myself--I often rode him now--and returned it with the tears in
his eyes. For a moment or two he did not speak. Then he said in a very
solemn way,
"I see! I oughtn't to have a chance if he be against me! I understand now
why I could not get you to promise!--All right! The Lord have mercy upon
me!"
"That he will! He is always having mercy upon us!" I answered, loving
John and my uncle and God more than ever. I loved John for this
especially, at the moment--that his nature remained uninjured toward
others by his distrust of her who should have had the first claim on his
confidence.
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