He noticed, too, her sweetness with the dogs, her quick encouragement when work was well done, her brief rebuke when the red dog, galloping recklessly down wind, jumped a ground-rattler and came within a hair's breadth of being bitten.
"The little devil!" said Hamil, looking down at the twisting reptile which he had killed with a palmetto stem.

"Why, Shiela, he has no rattles at all." "No, only a button.

Dig a hole and bury the head.

Fangs are always fangs whether their owner is dead or alive." So Hamil scooped out a trench with his hunting-knife and they buried the little ground-rattler while both dogs looked on, growling.
Cardross and Gray had remounted; Bulow cast out a brace of pointers for them, and they were already far away.

Presently the distant crack of their guns announced that fresh bevies had been found beyond the branch.
The guide, Carter, rode out, bringing Shiela and Hamil their horses and relieving the latter's pockets of a dozen birds; announcing a halt for luncheon at the same time in a voice softly neglectful of _I's_ and _R's_, and musical with aspirates.
As they followed him slowly toward the wagon which stood half a mile away under a group of noble pines, Hamil began in a low voice: "I've got to say this, Shiela: I never saw more perfect sportsmanship than yours; and, if only for that, I love you with all my heart." "What a boyish thing to say!" But she coloured deliciously.
"You don't care whether I love you--that way, do you ?" he asked hopefully.
"N-no." "Then--I can wait." She turned toward him, confused.
"Wait ?" she repeated.
"Yes--wait; all my life, if it must be." "There is nothing to wait for.