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Meader's bedside a basket of fruit which looked too expensive and tempting to have come from any dealer's in Ripton. "A lady came with that," Mr. Meader explained. "I never was popular before I was run over by the cars. She's be'n here twice. When she fetched it to-day, I kind of thought she was up to some, game, and I didn't want to take it." "Up to some game?" repeated Austen.
In that case I should have to advise you to accept." He was aware that, while he made this statement, Zeb Meader's eyes were riveted on him, and he knew that the farmer was weighing him in the balance. "Sell out?" exclaimed Mr. Meader. "You advise me to sell out?" Austen did not get angry. He understood this man and the people from which he sprang.
"Of course," she continued, "I felt a little like boasting of an 'accidental acquaintance' with the man who saved Zeb Meader's life." Austen laughed. Then he drew Pepper down to a walk, and turned to her. "The power of making it more than an accidental acquaintance lies with you," he said quietly. "I have always had an idea that aggression was a man's prerogative," Victoria answered lightly.
In that case I should have to advise you to accept." He was aware that, while he made this statement, Zeb Meader's eyes were riveted on him, and he knew that the farmer was weighing him in the balance. "Sell out?" exclaimed Mr. Meader. "You advise me to sell out?" Austen did not get angry. He understood this man and the people from which he sprang.
Austen was silent, for the true significance of this apparently obscure damage case to the Northeastern Railroads was beginning to dawn on him. The public was not in the best of humours towards railroads: there was trouble about grade crossings, and Mr. Meader's mishap and the manner of his rescue by the son of the corporation counsel had given the accident a deplorable publicity.
Austen was silent, for the true significance of this apparently obscure damage case to the Northeastern Railroads was beginning to dawn on him. The public was not in the best of humours towards railroads: there was trouble about grade crossings, and Mr. Meader's mishap and the manner of his rescue by the son of the corporation counsel had given the accident a deplorable publicity.
You don't know my father, Mr. Vane. He isn't the kind of man with whom that would make any difference. You ought to talk it over with him. He thinks you were foolish to take Zeb Meader's side." "And you?" Austen demanded quickly. "You see, I'm a woman," said Victoria, "and I'm prejudiced for Zeb Meader. Women are always prejudiced, that's our trouble.
"And did you tell Zeb?" asked Austen. "Yes," Victoria admitted, "but I'm sorry I did, now." "What did Zeb say?" Victoria laughed in spite of herself, and gave a more or less exact though kindly imitation of Mr. Meader's manner. "He said that wimmen-folks had better stick to the needle and the duster, and not go pokin' about law business that didn't concern 'em.
She glanced at him. "It was courageous of you," she said. "I have never looked upon it in that light," he answered. "May I ask you how you heard of it?" She coloured, but faced the question. "I heard it from my father, at first, and I took an interest on Zeb Meader's account," she added hastily. Austen was silent.
Meader being now the only invalid there, he heard a sound which made him pause in the doorway. The sound was feminine laughter of a musical quality that struck pleasantly on Austen's ear. Miss Victoria Flint was sated beside Mr. Meader's bed, and qualified friendship had evidently been replaced by intimacy since Austen's last visit, for Mr. Meader was laughing, too.
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