And now the mail."
She left her father's side and moved to the table, a very picture of
gentle decision and practice.
"Three for you, my daddy," she cried, dropping three letters on his
chest, where his shirt gaped just below his neck. Then she turned
about. "Only one for you, honest Jeff. Just one, and I've guessed at
the writing till I'm sick."
Jeff was smiling up with frank amusement.
"Say, that's great. It's got you beat. Well," he added, as he picked
up the letter, "I'll just keep you right on guessing. Where's yours?"
The girl laughed merrily.
"Had mine. I don't guess any right-acting girl would sit easy in the
saddle twelve miles without reading her mail. Say----" she paused.
The smile had died out of her eyes. Jeff's expression had abruptly
changed. He was regarding the address on his envelope with startled
seriousness. Then she went on quickly: "Guess I'll wait till you're
both through. I'll get right out an' off-saddle. Then for supper."
In the parlor the silence remained unbroken.
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