"You must see my father to-night, dear," she said eagerly.
"Must I, to-night?"
"It's best."
"I'd rather face a hundred Red Men in war paint."
A merry laugh was her answer as she leaned close:
"Don't be silly, he likes you."
"But he _loves_ you."
"Of course, and for that reason my happiness will be his."
"God knows, I hope so," was the doleful response. "But if I must, I
must. I'll see him."
A quick kiss in the friendly shadows and she was gone.
He walked alone an hour after supper, screwing up his courage to the
point of bearding the Colonel in his den. He fumbled the door-bell at
last, his heart in his throat.
Old Rough and Ready was not inclined to help him in his embarrassment.
Never had he seen the lines of his strong jaw harder or more set than
when he grunted:
"Sit down, sir. Don't stand there staring. I'm not on inspection."
The perspiration started on his forehead and he moistened his dry lips.
"I beg your pardon, Colonel. I was a little flustered.
I've--a--something--on--my mind--"
"Out with it!"
"I--I--I'm in love with Miss Sarah."
"You don't say?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"Well, it's no news to me. The whole family have been enjoying the
affair for some time. I suppose you're asking--or think you're
asking--for my daughter's hand in marriage?"
"That's it--yes, sir--exactly.
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