and, when I
went home, I hunted up the first one he wrote, and I can tell
there's a right smart difference already. You know all about Ollie
and me goin' to get married, I reckon?"

Mr. Howitt admitted that he had heard something of that nature;
and Sammy nodded, "I 'lowed you'd know. But you don't know how
mighty proud and particular Ollie always is. I figure that bein'
in the city with all them one folks ain't goin' to make him any
less that way than he was. And if he stays there and keeps on a
changin', and I stay here, and don't change none, why it might be
that I--I--" She faltered and came to a dead stop, twisting her
bonnet strings nervously in her confusion. "Ollie he ain't like
Young Matt, nohow," she said again. "Such as that wouldn't make no
difference with him. But Ollie--well you see--"

There was a twinkle, now, in the shepherd's eye, as he answered;
"Yes, I see; I am quite sure that I see."

The girl continued; "You know all about these things, Dad. And
there ain't nobody else here that does. Will you learn me to be a
sure 'nough lady, so as Ollie won't--so he won't--" Again she
paused in confusion. It was evident, from the look on Mr. Howitt's
face, that, whatever he saw, it was not this.

"I feel somehow like I could do it, if I had a chance," she
murmured.

There was no answer. After a time, Sammy stole a look at her quiet
companion. What could the man in the chair be thinking about? His
pipe was neglected; his gray head bowed.

"Course," said the young woman, with just a little lifting of her
chin; "Course, if I couldn't never learn, there ain't no use to
try."

The old scholar raised his head and looked long at the girl. Her
splendid form, glowing with the rich life and strength of the
wilderness, showed in every line the proud old southern blood.
Could she learn to be a fine lady? Mr. Howitt thought of the women
of the cities, pale, sickly, colorless, hot-house posies, beside
this mountain flower. What would this beautiful creature be, had
she their training? What would she gain? What might she not lose?
Aloud he said, "My dear child, do you know what it is that you
ask?"

Sammy hung her head, abashed at his serious tone. "I 'lowed it
would be right smart trouble for you," she said. "But I could let
you have Brownie in pay; he ain't only five year old, and is as
sound as a button. He's all I've got, Mr. Howitt. But I'd be
mighty proud to swap him to you."

"My girl, my girl," said the