Louise would not have admitted even to herself that she urged Boyar.
Nevertheless the reins tightened and slackened gently. Boyar swung into
his easy lope. It pleased the girl that Collie, turning in his saddle at
the sound of hoofs, waved a salute, but did not check his horse. He had
never presumed on her frank friendship and "taken things for granted."
He kept his place always. He was polite, a little reticent, and very
much in love with Louise. Louise did not pretend to herself that she
was not aware of it. She was all the more pleased that Collie should act
so admirably. She had loaned him books, some of which he had read
faithfully and intelligently. In secret he had kissed her name written
on the flyleaf of each of them. He really rather adored Louise than
loved her, and he builded well, for his adoration (unintimate as
adoration must ever be until perchance it touches earth and is
translated into love) was of that blithe and inspiriting quality that
lifts a man above his natural self and shapes the lips to song and the
heart to unselfish service. He knew himself to be good-looking and not
altogether a barbarian. No morbid hopelessness clouded his broad
horizon. He knew himself and cherished his strength and his optimism.
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