David did not want her to leave them, loving the sight of her. "Don't go. I saw him as I came along," he said. But she went on, and sat herself on a seat under a huge locust tree. Tardiest of all the trees, it had not yet leaved out. Later it would be covered with a wealth of sweet white blossoms swarming with honey-bees, and the air all about it would be filled with its lavish fragrance and the noise of humming wings. Presently Hoke came plodding up from the field, and smiled as he passed her. "Doc inside?" he asked. She nodded. When David came out, he found her still seated there, her head resting wearily against the rough tree. She rose and came toward him. "I thought I wouldn't leave until I knew if there was anything more I could do," she said simply. "No, you've done all you can. She'll be all right. Where's your horse?" "I walked." "Why did you do that? You ought not, you know." "Hoyle rode the colt down to see could Aunt Sally come here for a day or two, until Miz Belew can do for herself better." She turned back to the house. "Come home now with me. Ride my horse, and I'll walk. I'd like to walk," urged David. "Oh, no. Thank you, Doctor, I must speak to Azalie first. Don't wait." She went in, and David mounted and rode slowly on, but not far. Where the trail led through a small stream which he knew she must cross, he dismounted and allowed the horse to drink, while he stood looking back along the way for her to come to him. Soon he saw her white dress among the glossy rhododendron leaves as she moved swiftly along, and he walked back to meet her. "I have waited for you. You are not used to this kind of a saddle, I know, but what's the difference? You can ride cross-saddle as the young ladies do in the North, can't you?" "I reckon I could." She laughed a little. "Do they ride that way where you come from? It must look right funny. I don't guess I'd like it." "But just try--to please me? Why not?" "If you don't mind, I'd rather walk, please, suh. Don't wait." "Then I will walk with you. I may do that, may I not?" He caught the bridle-rein on the saddle, leaving the horse to browse along behind as he would, and walked at her side. She made no further protest, but was silent. "You don't object to this, do you?" he insisted. "It's pleasanter than being alone, but it's right far to walk, seems like, for you." "Then why not for you?" She smiled her mysterious, quiet smile. "You must know that I am stronger than you?" he persisted. "I ought to think so, since that day we rode over to Cate Irwin's, but I was right afraid for you that time, lest you get cold; and then it was me--" she paused, and looked squarely in his eyes and laughed. "You wouldn't say 'it was me,' would you?" He joined merrily in her laughter. "I never corrected you on that." "You never did, but you didn't need to. I often know, after I've said something--not--right--as you would say it."