I wanted to get down and pet the calf--it had the dearest
little snub nose but they bolted, and wouldn't let me near them."
"I fancy they were not accustomed to meeting angels unawares."
"Sir Redmond, I wish you wouldn't. You are so much nicer when you're not
trying to be nice."
"I'll act a perfect brute," he offered eagerly, "if that will make you
love me."
"It's hardly worth trying. I think you would make a very poor sort of
villain, Sir Redmond. You wouldn't even be picturesque."
Sir Redmond looked rather floored. He was a good fighter, was Sir
Redmond, but he was clumsy at repartee--or, perhaps, he was too much in
earnest to fence gracefully. Just now he looked particularly foolish.
"Don't you think my brand is pretty? You know what it is, don't you?"
"I'm afraid not," he owned. "I fancy I need a good bit of coaching in
the matter of brands."
"Yes," agreed Beatrice, "I fancy you do. My brand is a Triangle
Bar--like this." With a sharp pointed bit of rock she drew a more or
less exact diagram in the yellow soil. "There are ever so many different
brands belonging to the Northern Pool; Dick pointed them out to me, but
I can't remember them. But whenever you see a Triangle Bar you'll be
looking at my individual property. I think it was nice of Dick to give
me a brand all my own. Mr. Cameron has a pretty brand, too--a Maltese
Cross.
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