fly," answered Rose Mary with the teasing lift of her long lashes up
at him. "Maybe just a woman's puff might start a man's kite sky high
that couldn't get off right without it. You can't tell."

"Yes, child," answered Uncle Tucker as he looked into the dark eyes
level with his own with a sudden tenderness, "and you never fail to
start off all kites in your neighborhood. When I took you as a bundle
of nothing outen Brother John's arms nearly thirty years ago this
spring jest a perky encouraging little smile in your blue eyes started
my kite that was a-trailing weary like, and it's sailed mostly by your
wind ever since--especially these last few years. Don't let the breeze
give out on me yet, child."

"It never will, old sweetie," answered Rose Mary as she took Uncle
Tucker's lean old hand in hers and rubbed her cheek against the sleeve
of his rough farm coat. "Is the interest of the mortgage ready for
this quarter?" she asked quietly in almost a whisper, as if afraid to
disturb some listening ear with a private matter.

"It lacks more than a hundred," answered Uncle Tucker in just as quiet
a voice, in which a note of pain sounded plainly. "And this is not the
first time I have fallen behind with Newsome, either. The repairs on
the plows and the food chopper for the barn have cost a good deal,
and the coal bill was large this winter. Sometimes, Rose Mary, I--I am
afraid to look forward to the end. Maybe if I was younger it would be
different and I could pay the debt, but I am afraid--if it wasn't for
your aunts, looks like you and I could let it go and make our way
somewhere out in the world beyond the Ridge, but they are older than
us and we must keep their home as long as we can for 'em. Maybe in a
few years--Newsome won't press me, I'm mighty sure. Do you think you