On an evening late in May, Gardiner left the store early, saying his horse needed exercise, and as the day’s work was practically over he would go out for a drive. Burton remained to tidy the store and lock up, but he noticed that Gardiner’s horse took the well-known road to Grants’.
As he was sweeping behind the counter a young woman entered the store, and Burton, looking up, was surprised to see Miss Vane.
“I hope I am not too late, Mr. Burton. I have had a number of errands to do for Aunty, and it always takes longer than one expects. I wonder if you will let me have this small bill of groceries?”
“You are not too late; you are just in time,” assured Burton, who felt that the moment was the most opportune of the whole day.
He quickly filled the order, and said, “If you will tell me where your buggy is, Miss Vane, I will take your packages around and put them in it.”
“Oh, I have no buggy this time, I’m walking.”
“Walking! You surely do not intend to walk home with all these parcels?”
“They are not heavy, and besides, I am to walk only as far as Mrs. Delt’s. Harry will meet me there later in the evening. They are very busy on the farm at present, and I told them it was quite unnecessary to drive me to town.”
Burton wrestled with his thoughts. Here, surely, was an opportunity to offer a service which could be construed only as a business courtesy.
“If you can wait until I close the store—it will be only a minute—I should be very glad to carry your parcels.”
“Oh, that is too much—I could not expect you to do that.”
“It is not too much—unless you say it is.”
Miss Vane laughed. Hers was a quiet, mirthful laugh, like a vocal smile.
“If your offer is made as a kindness to me, I cannot accept it; if it is your own desire, I cannot refuse.”
“It is my desire,” said Burton. There was no other answer, although he felt that the reply shattered his theory about a business courtesy.
Soon they were walking gaily along the road leading out of the village. This ran by the amusement grounds, where the young men of the town were gathering for an evening’s baseball practice. Burton and his companion were not unnoticed.
The talk was of the commonplace: the weather, the seeding, the life of town and country; Burton careful, discriminating in his speech; Miss Vane frank, impetuous, but correct. They had almost reached Delt’s when the young woman, placing her fingers to her throat, uttered a cry of dismay.