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The Man Thou Gavest by Harriet T. (Harriet Theresa) Comstock
page 25 of 328 (07%)
always think, when I see things, that I'm going to do a big, fine thing
some day. I feel upperty and then--poof! off go the pictures and I am
just--lil' Nella-Rose again!"

A comically heavy sigh brought Truedale back to earth.

"But the face you saw long ago," Truedale whispered, "was it my face, do
you think?"

Nella-Rose paused--then quietly:

"I--reckon it was. Yes, I'm mighty sure it was your face. When I saw it
at that window"--she pointed across the room--"I certainly thought my
eyes were closed and that--it had come--the kind, good face that saved
me!" A sweet, friendly smile wreathed the girl's lips and she rose with
rare dignity and held out her thin, delicate hand:

"Mister Outlander, we're going to be neighbours, aren't we?"

"Yes--neighbours!" Truedale took the hand with a distinct sense of
suffocation, "but why do you call me an outlander?"

"Because--you are! You're not _of_ our mountains."

"No, I wish I were!"

"Wishing can't make you. You are--or you aren't."

Truedale noted the girl's language. Distorted and crude as it often was,
it was never positively illiterate. This surprised him.
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