omet, "I _did_ 'low wunst I would. But
a man with eddication would suit me bes', an' ye hain't got none."

"No more hev ye," he argued warmly. He was clinging for dear life to
his vanishing hope of happiness. He did not realize depreciation in
his words--only the facts that made them suited to each other. "Ye
know ye _wouldn't_ take l'arnin' at school--an' I _couldn't_ git it;
'pears ter me we air 'bout ekal."

"It air a differ in a 'oman," said Theodosia, quickly. "A 'oman hev
got no call to be l'arned like a man."

This very subordinate view failed in this instance of the satisfaction
it is wont to give to the masculine mind.

"Waal, ye didn't git enough l'arnin' ter hurt ye," he retorted. Then,
relenting, he added, "But I don't find no fault with ye fur that
nuther."

The color flared into her face. How she resented his clemency to her
ignorance! She still sat in her lowly posture on the step, leaning her
bare head against the column of the porch, for her bonnet lay on the
floor beside her; but there was a suggestion of self-assertion in her
voice.

"I ain't expectin' ter live all my days in the woods, like a deer or
suthin' wild. I expec' ter live in town with eddicated folks, ez be
looked up ter, an' respected by all, an' kin make money, an' hev a
sure-enough house." Her ambitious eyes swept the shadowy gables down
the street.

He broke out laughing; his voice was softer; his face relaxed.

"Laws-a-massy! Dosia," he exclaimed, "yer head's plumb turned by one
day's roamin' round town. Ye won't be in sech a hurry ter turn me off
whenst we git back ter the mountings."

"I ain't goin' back ter the mountings!" she cried; "I be a-goin' ter
marry a town man ez hev got position, an' eddication, an' place." She
paused, stung by the fancied incredulity in his eyes. "Why not? Ain't
I good-lookin' enough?"

She had risen to her feet; her eyes flashed upon him; her beautiful
face wore a look of pride. It might have elicited from another man a
protest of its beauty. He stared at her with an expression of alarm
that was almost ghastly.

"Other men like me fur my looks, ef ye don't, Justus Hoxon," she said
in indignation.

"Ef they jes' likes ye fur yer looks they won't like ye long," Hoxon
said severely. "I'll like ye when yer brown head is ez white ez
cotton--ez much ez I like ye now--more!--_more_, I'll be bound! O
'Dosia," with a sudden renewal of tenderness, "don't talk this hyar
cur'ous way! I dunno what's w