On returning home one afternoon he saw Barkman walking with her in the peach orchard. As they turned round the girl called to him, and came at once to meet him; but his jealousy would not be appeased. Her flower-like face, framed, so to speak, by the autumn foliage, only increased his anger. He could not bear to _see_ her flirting. Were she out of his sight, he felt for the first time, he would not care what she did.
“You were goin' in without speakin',” she said reproachfully.
“You have a man with you whose trade is talk. I'm not needed,” was his curt reply.
Half-incensed, half-gratified by his passionate exclamation, she drew back, while Barkman, advancing, said:
“Good day, Mr. Bancroft, good day. I was just tryin' to persuade Miss Conklin to come for another drive this evenin' in order to get this business of ours settled as soon as possible.”
“Another drive.” Bancroft repeated the words to himself, and then steadying his voice answered coolly: “You'll have no difficulty, lawyer. I was just telling Miss Conklin that you talked splendidly--the result of constant practice, I presume.”
“That's it, sir,” replied the lawyer seriously; “it's chiefly a matter of practice added to gift--natural gift,” but here Barkman's conceit died out as he caught an uneasy, impatient movement of Miss Conklin, and he went on quietly with the knowledge of life and the adaptability gained by long experience: “But anyway, I'm glad you agree with me, for Miss Conklin may take your advice after rejectin' mine.”
Bancroft saw the trap, but could not restrain himself. With a contemptuous smile he said:
“I'm sure no advice of mine is needed; Miss Conklin has already made up her mind to gratify you. She likes to show the country to strangers,” he added bitterly.
The girl flushed at the sarcasm, but her spirit was not subdued.
“Wall, Mr. Barkman,” she retorted, with a smiling glance at the lawyer, “I guess I must give in; if Mr. Bancroft thinks I ought ter, there's no more to be said. I'm willin'.”
An evening or two later, Barkman having gone into Wichita, Bancroft asked Loo to go out with him upon the stoop. For several minutes he stood in silence admiring the moonlit landscape; then he spoke as if to himself: