"I think I shall have
to adopt you as a grandson."
Burns laid his hand on his heart and made her a deeply respectful bow, at
which she laughed and waved him away.
"Adorable," said he to Charlotte, on his way down, "is not a word which
men use over every small object, as you women do, therefore it should
have the more force when they do make use of it. No other word fits
little Madam Chase so well. Consider me yours to command in her service,
at any hour of day or night."
"Thank you," Charlotte called softly after him. "I assure you she will
command you herself, and delight in doing it. She never fails to
recognize homage when she receives it, or to demand it when she does
not. But she will give you quite as much as she takes from you."
"I'm confident of it," and Burns descended to his wife. "You have a
rival," he told her solemnly.
CHAPTER X
A RUNAWAY ROAD
Camera hung by a strap over her shoulder, small tripod tucked under her
arm, Charlotte Chase Ruston, photographer, turned aside from the country
road along which she was walking, to follow a winding lane leading into a
deep wood. The luring entrance to this lane had been beyond her power to
resist, although the sun had climbed nearly to the zenith, warning her
that it was time to turn her steps toward home. In her search for
picturesque bits of landscape to turn to account in her work, her
enthusiasm was likely at any time to lead her far afield.
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