“Women are won little by little,” he concluded. “Whoever knows them and humours them right along, flattering their weak points, is sure to succeed some time or other. And I can wait.”
He got his opportunity by waiting. As Loo took her seat in the buggy one afternoon he saw that she was nervous and irritable. “The schoolmaster's been goin' for her--the derned fool,” he said to himself, and at once began to soothe her. The task was not an easy one. She was cold to him at first and even spiteful; she laughed at what he said and promised, and made fun of his pretensions. His kindly temper stood him in good stead. He was quietly persistent; with the emollient of good-nature he wooed her in his own fashion, and before they reached the first settler's house he had half won her to kindliness. Here he made his victory complete. At every question he appealed to her deferentially for counsel and decision; he reckoned Miss Conklin would know, he relied on her for the facts, and when she spoke he guessed that just settled the matter; her opinion was good enough for him, and so forth.
Wounded to the soul by Bancroft's persistent, undeserved contempt, the girl felt that now at last she had met some one who appreciated her, and she gave herself up to the charm of dexterous flattery.
From her expression and manner while they drove homewards, Barkman believed that the game was his own. He went on talking to her with the reverence which he had already found to be so effective. There was no one like her. What a lawyer she'd have made! How she got round the wife and induced the husband to sign the petition--'twas wonderful! He had never imagined a woman could be so tactful and winning. He had never met a man who was her equal in persuading people.
The girl drank in the praise as a dry land drinks the rain. He meant it all; that was clear. He had shown it in his words and acts--there, before the Croftons. She had always believed she could do such things; she didn't care much about books, and couldn't talk fine about moonlight, but the men an' women she knew, she understood. She was sure of that. But still, 'twas pleasant to hear it. He must love her or he never could appreciate her as he did. She reckoned he was very clever; the best lawyer in the State. Every one knew that. And he had said no man was equal to her. Oh, if only the other, if only George had told her so; but he was too much wrapped up in himself, and after all what was he anyway? Yet, if he had--