Barbara Allison insisted upon joining the excursion down to the mill
that morning; she developed a sudden and unshakable resolve to be one
of the party, and after his remonstrances had finally brought stormy
tears to her eyes, Allison surrendered in perplexity to her whim.
"All right, then," he gave in. "If you want to come as much as all
that, but--but you--now run along, then, with Stephen."
On the way down the hill he voiced his perplexity to Caleb.
"When it comes to dealing with men," he said, "I pride myself upon
being able to go back, rather incisively, to first motives. But the
other sex is beyond me! She's always turned up her dainty nose at the
noise and dirt before, and--and now she's ready to cry because I
suggest that she wait with Miss Sarah until we return!"
Caleb's eyes rested upon the oddly matched little couple ahead in the
road. The boy was carrying his battered hat in his hand, but Barbara
walked with small head up, without a single glance for her escort.
Caleb, noting that Steve's head was forward-thrust, knew that his eyes
must be fastened hungrily upon the town in the valley; and he
understood the reason for the disdainful tilt of the little girl's
chin. For even at the age of ten Barbara Allison was not accustomed to
inattention. Caleb smiled, rather covertly for him.
"I never knew but one woman whose motives were absolutely transparent,"
he mused.
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