"A man told us that came with the cattle last year. And he said
you must belong to very grand folks."
"And how did he know that?"
"By your looks."
"By my looks?"
"Yes, I--I suppose he thought you didn't look like other boys
around here." She was now plying the pin very attentively.
"I must be a very curious-looking boy."
"Oh, not very," said she, looking at him thoughtfully. "I--I--well
I shall not tell you what I think," She spoke decisively.
She had begun to blush again.
Their eyes met, and they both looked away, smiling. Then a moment
of silence.
"Don't you like brown?" She was now looking down at her dress, with
a little show of trouble in her eyes.
"I liked the brown of your arms," he answered.
The pin stopped; there was a puzzled look in her face.
"I'm afraid it's a very homely dress, anyway," said she, looking
down upon it, as she moved her foot impatiently.
Her mother came out of doors. "Polly," said she, "you'd better go
over to the post-office."
"May I go with her?" Trove inquired.
"Ask Polly," said the widow Vaughn, laughing.
"May I?" he asked.
Polly turned away smiling. "If you care to," said she, in a low
voice.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72