'bout the way they done thar, 'n' how their
clothes looked, 'n' all thet. She knows she's handsum, 'n' she likes to
see other folks knows it, though she never says much. I hed to laugh at
my Hamp once; Hamp he aint no fool, an' he'd been tuk with her a spell
like the rest o' the boys, but he got chock full of her, 'n' one day
we was a-talkin,' 'n' the old man he says, 'Waal now, that gal's a hard
wad. She's cur'us, 'n' thar's no two ways about it.' An' Hamp he gives
a bit of a laugh kinder mad, 'n' he ses, 'Yes, she's cur'us--cur'us
as ----!' May be he felt kinder roughed up about her yet--but I hed to
laugh."

The next morning Miss Noble devoted to letter-writing. In one of her
letters, a bright one, of a tone rather warmer than the rest, she gave
her correspondent a very forcible description of the entertainment of
the evening before and its closing scene.

"I think it will interest him," she said half aloud, as she wrote upon
the envelope the first part of the address, 'Mr. Paul Lennox.'

A shadow falling across the sunshine in the door way checked her and
made her look up.

It had rather an arousing effect upon her to find herself confronting
the young woman, Lodusky, who stood upon the threshold, regarding her
with an air entirely composed, slightly mingled with interest.

"I was in at Mis' Harney's," she remarked, as if the explanation was
upon the whole rather superfluous, "'n' I thought I'd come in 'n' see
ye."

During her sojourn of three weeks Rebecca had learned enough of the laws
of mountain society to understand that the occasion only demanded of her
friendliness of demeanor and perfect freedom from ceremony. She rose and
placed a chair for her guest.

"I am glad to see you," she said.

Lodusky seated herself.

It was entirely unnecessary to attempt to set her at ease; her composure
was perfect. The flaunt-ing-patterned calico must have been a matter of
full dress. It had been replaced by a blue-and-white-checked homespun
gown--a coarse cotton garment short and scant. Her feet were bare, and
their bareness was only a revelation of greater beauty, so perfect was
their arched slenderness. Miss Dunbar crossed them with unembarrassed
freedom, and looked at the stranger as if she found her worth steady
inspection.

"Thet thar's a purty dress you're a-wearin'," she vouchsafed at length.

Rebecca glanced down at her costume. Being a sensible young person, she
had attired herself in apparel suitable f