Part 24 (1/2)
”I suppose so,” a.s.sented the girl. ”How is yours coming on?”
”Pretty well. Some blasted crow got a little of it at the beginnin'; but the rest of it is all right.”
”It was a shame you lost any of it.”
”I was a good deal put out myself. Still, 'twarn't much, considerin' the size of the field.”
Lucy dimpled.
”Your field is a wonderful sight from our house,” she answered, ”especially when the wind blows. You have a fine lot of oats, too. I love to watch the breeze sweep across it.”
”I do myself,” agreed Martin with increasing cordiality. ”It's a pretty picture. There's lots of pretty pictures on a farm if you're lookin' for 'em,” he added, stealing a glance at her.
”Your sweet peas were a pretty picture,” ventured Lucy mischievously.
Martin colored with confusion. He seemed at a loss how to reply. Then, gathering courage, he remarked shyly:
”You like flowers?”
”I love them!”
”Some folks do,” said he hurriedly. ”I prefer to see 'em growin'.”
”Yet you do cut them sometimes,” persisted Lucy playfully.
”Mighty seldom. Only when it's good for the vines.”
Again the glint of a smile brightened his countenance, and she saw him blush sheepishly.
”I wish it would be good for them again sometime,” said she, peeping up into his eyes. ”Don't you think there's danger of their goin' to seed?”
She heard a short laugh, but he did not answer. Instead, as if to change a dangerous topic, he asked:
”How are you likin' Sefton Falls?”
”Oh, I think the place is beautiful. Already I have become very fond of it. You must love every stick and stone within sight.”
”There was one while I didn't,” Martin drawled slowly. ”But afterward, when I saw 'twas my duty to stay here, I got to feelin' different. I'd 'a'
liked to have gone to the war. I was too old, though; besides, I had my sisters.”
”I know,” murmured Lucy with quiet sympathy. ”You see, I had to make my choice, too. My aunt wrote that she needed me. It wouldn't have been right for me to desert her and go to France to nurse other people.”
”So it's because of her you're stayin' here?”
”Yes.”
Martin did not speak again for some time; then he said in a tense, uneven voice that struggled to be casual:
”If she was to die then, I s'pose you'd start back West where you came from.”