CHAPTER XXXII

IN WHICH THE TROUBLE DEVELOPS Away strode Dallas faster than ever, but now he whistled no more. He had just vaulted a stile beyond which lay the water-meadows when he espied the object of his anxious thoughts coming to meet him, and in that moment forgot all but her dear loveliness—the sweet, proud carriage of her head, the lithe, free grace of her every movement, her high-bred air . . . and her skirts were not a bit too short since they did, indeed, reveal only loveliness. As they approached each other he scanned …